disprove my theory, I
am on safe ground, and have my fun whether he accepts or rejects my
findings.

This is one way of enlarging one's world, I take it, and if this sort
of thing is a part of the process of education, I am in favor of it,
and wish I knew how to set my boys and girls going on such
excursions. I wish I might have gone to school to Agassiz just to
get my eyes opened. If I had, I'd probably assign to my pupils such
subjects as the evolution of a snowflake, the travels of a sunbeam,
the mechanism of a bird's wing, the history of a dewdrop, the changes
in a blade of grass, and the evolution of a grain of sand. If I
could only take them away from books for a month or so, they'd
probably be able to read the books to better advantage when they came
back. I'd like to take them on a walking trip over the Alps and
through rural England and Scotland for a few weeks.

If they could only gather broom, heather, shamrock, and edelweiss,
they would be able to see clover, alfalfa, arbutus, and mignonette
when they came back home. If they could see black robins in Wales
and Germany, the robin redbreast here at home would surely be thought
worthy of notice. If they could see stalactites and stalagmites in
Luray Cave, their world would then include these formations. One of
my boys was a member of an exploring expedition in the Andes, and one
night they were encamped near a glacier. This glacier protruded into
a lake, and on that particular night the end of that river of ice
broke off and thus formed an iceberg. The glacier was nearly a mile
wide, and when the end broke off the sound was such as to make the
loudest thunder seem a whisper by comparison. It was a rare
experience for this young fellow to be around where icebergs are
made, and vicariously I shared his experience.

I want to know the price of eggs, bacon, and coffee, but I need not
go into camp on the price-list. Having purchased my bacon and eggs,
I like to move along to where my friend is sitting, and hear him tell
of his experiences with glaciers and icebergs, and so become
inoculated with the world-enlarging virus. Or, if he comes in to
share my bacon and eggs, these mundane delights lose none of their
flavor by being garnished with conversation on Andean themes. I'm
glad to have my friend push that greatest of monuments, "The Christ
of the Andes," over into my world. I arise from the table feeling
that I have had full value for the money I