line of matter. Let us have fewer
rocks and stones and more comforts. Sweat and toil are a great
mistake. Let us turn Delance's Hill into plum-pudding and the stones
thereof into caramels and its pond into tomato-soup. Why not? They
have no reality, no substance. They are nothing but thoughts--and our
thoughts, at that--and why shouldn't we change 'em? But somehow we
can't fetch it. According to the Professor, we have got into the habit
of thinking in terms of rock, soil, and water, and we can't get over
it. There are some few of us who stand for better things; but the
majority keep thinking in the old rut, and we can't sway them. The
Professor says that all we need is to get together and agree and then
concentrate. But agreement doesn't seem to be necessary. You know that
there was a time when everybody, after much concentration, agreed that
the world was flat--everybody but one man. Now the world was stubborn.
It wouldn't give up. It hung on to its roundness, and let the people
think what they pleased. They tried to flatten it with countless tons
of concentration, but it held its shape. The one man had his way
about it. So don't be discouraged by an adverse majority on this
plum-pudding project. One lady has shown us a sample of concentrated
hair, and it looks good to me. Why all this striving, all this trouble
about the problems of life and death, when the straight, broad way of
concentration is open to us? Why shouldn't we have concentrated bread
and meat and shoes and socks and silks.

"'Now the subject of concentration is by no means new. It has been a
success for centuries. The late Dr. Guph tells in his memoirs of a
singular race of people known as the Flub Dubs who once dwelt on the
lost isle of Atlantis. They were the greatest concentrators that ever
lived. Every one thought that he was the greatest man in the world,
and thought it so hard and so persistently that it came true--in a
way. Naturally they aimed high, and every man thought himself the
rightful king, and a strife arose over the crown, so that no one
could wear it and many were slain in a great tussle. And when they
were resting from their struggles one rose and said: "Kings of the
realm, you are as the dust under my feet. I scorn you. A few minutes
ago I decided to reverse my concentrator and aim at a higher goal. It
was easy of attainment. I have suddenly become the biggest fool on
this island and the humblest of all men."

"'The announcement w