ully received. We have had so much false money everywhere, that,
since we can make that pass, we do not trouble ourselves. And yet,
Maverick, there _is_ something in it that you and I don't see clearly
yet; but we cannot teach it acceptably until we can show better fruit.
And, when leaders of all kinds, in high places, show that self only is
at the bottom of every thing they do, it seems hopeless to demand that
the class below, watching them, and suffering from their wrongdoing,
shall attain a higher moral status. How can they help following coarsely
in the footsteps of their betters?"

"Darcy, suppose you turn parson!" and Maverick laughed half quizzically.
"See here: the world wants a very old sermon preached again to it,
hammered into every fibre, put up over every doorway,--the essence of
all knowledge, all religion, briefly comprehended in this, 'Love thy
neighbor _as_ thyself.' You won't need gown or bands for that work. Not
to have one code of morals for the rich, and one for the poor; one creed
for Sunday, and quite another belief for Monday; to have no lofty,
impossible theories and exalted moods, but truthful, honest living; not
to push away the miserable, ignorant souls, but take them by the hand in
hearty co-operation. Maybe Cameron has the right clew. Why should we let
human love be shamed by such things as an Oneida community or a Mormon
city?"

The strong, earnest voice stirred Jack like martial music. All these
years he had been struggling with a great, blind, confused
something,--perhaps it was not a silver-mine or a railroad, but a work
just here in the town of his boyhood, where he was known, where he had
played and worked.

"Seventeenthly, and lastly," and Maverick looked at his watch, "I cannot
idle any more time upon you, and must cut short with a 'To be
continued.' We will talk it over again and again; and, if we cannot get
it into shape, there is still Florida left. So, while you are dreaming
it out by this great silent mill, whose prisoned spirits should prate of
prosperity instead of desolation, I'll run my course around Yerbury, and
we'll compare notes over our cigars. _Addio_," waving his hand.

Jack watched the compact figure as it moved briskly away; then he
sauntered round the mill, down one street and up another, strolled out
to Lovers' Lane, and returned by Larch Avenue. The Barry house began to
show signs of life, for old Mat was clearing up the grounds. This was
the one oasis that