were the umbrellas of any service for long," continued Mr. Tolman,
"for the sparks soon burned their coverings until nothing but the steel
ribs remained."

"I don't wonder the trip was not a pleasure," smiled Mrs. Tolman.

"Yet, in spite of its discomfort, it was a novelty and you must not
forget that, as I said before, the public of that period was a simple
and less exacting one than is the public of to-day. We make a frightful
fuss if we are jolted, chilled, crowded, delayed, or made uncomfortable;
but our forefathers were a hale and hearty lot--less overworked perhaps,
less nervous certainly, less indulged. They had never known anything
better than cold houses, draughty and crowded stagecoaches, and stony
highways--plenty of obstacles, you see, and few luxuries. Therefore with
naive delight they welcomed one new invention after another, overlooking
its defects and considering themselves greatly blessed to have anything
as fine. Probably we, who are a thousand per cent better off than they,
do more grumbling over the tiny flaws in the mechanism of our lives than
they did over the mammoth ones."

"Oh, come, Dad!" protested Stephen. "Aren't you putting it rather
strong?"

"Not a whit too strong, Steve," Mrs. Tolman interrupted. "I believe we
are a fussy, pampered, ungrateful generation. It is rather pathetic,
too, to think it is we who now reap the benefits of all those perfected
ideas which our ancestors enjoyed only in their most primitive
beginnings. It seems hardly fair that Stephenson, for example, should
never have seen a modern Pullman.

"He was spared something, wasn't he, Dad?" chuckled Steve mischievously.

But Mr. Tolman did not heed the remark.

"He had the vision," returned he softly, "the joy of seeing the marvel
for the first time, imperfect as it was. Perhaps that was compensation
enough. It is the reward of every inventor. Remember it is no mean
privilege to stand upon the peak in Darien which Keats pictures."

CHAPTER V

STEVE LEARNS A SAD LESSON

No more disasters attended the journey and the travelers spun swiftly on
to Northampton, arriving at the old New England town late in the
afternoon. What a scene of activity the college campus presented! Bevies
of girls, hatless and in gay-colored sweaters, drifted hither and
thither, their laughter floating through the twilight with musical
clearness. Occasionally some newcomer would join a group and a shout of
welcome would hail her adv