istian Scientists. Ledges, smitten by the modern Moses, have gushed
a stream of gold. Once the land supported its owner. Now wealth
supports land and landlord and the fullness thereof. The Fifth Avenue
farmer has begun to raise his own vegetables at a dollar apiece and a
crop of criminals second to none. In his hands farming becomes
agriculture and the farm a swarming nest of parasites.

"We are in the midst of a new migration from the cities back to the
land, and all are happy save the philosophers. It is a remote reaction
of former migrations to the mines and the oil-fields. The descendants
of these very pioneers now seek to exchange a part of their gold for
the ancient sod in which are the roots of their family trees and
delusions.

"With these rich men came Henry Delance, who grew up with me here and
went to Pittsburg in his early twenties and made a fortune in the coal
and iron business. His grandfather was old Nick Delance, a blacksmith;
and his father owned a farm on the hills and made a bare living for
himself and a large family. They had been simple, hard-working, honest
people. I helped Henry to buy the old place, and, as we stood together
on the hilltop, he said to me:

"'I often think of the old days that were full of hard labor. What a
woman my mother was! Did all the work of the house and raised seven
boys and two girls, and every one of them has had some success in the
world--except me. One built a big railroad, one was governor of a
State, one a member of Congress, one a noted physician, two have made
millions, and both of the girls married well. Now, my boy has had
every advantage--'

"'But poverty,' I suggested.

"'But poverty,' he repeated, 'and I'm unable to give him that. It's
probably the one thing that would make a man of him, and I wouldn't
wonder if he succeeded in achieving it.'

"'A rather large undertaking,' I said.

"'Yes, but he's well qualified,' Henry answered, with a smile.

"'What's the matter with your boy?' I asked.

"'So busy with tomfoolery--no time for anything else. I've had so much
to do that I've rather neglected Harry, and now he's too much for me.
He knows that he's got me beat on education, but that's only the
beginning of what he knows. Good fellow, you understand, but he's
young and thinks me old-fashioned. I wish you'd help me to make a man
of him.'

"'What can I do?'

"'Get him interested in some kind of work. He doesn't like my
business. He hates Wall Stre