that will provide a start.

"I have no love for the grinding in an office, nor yet for the grubbing
in a warehouse, but, for a bit, it will be a case of 'needs must when
the devil drives,'--so I mean to take anything that I can get, to begin
with, and leave the matter of choice to a more opportune time."

"And what would be your choice, George?" he inquired.

"Choice! Well, if you asked me what I thought I was adapted for, I
would say, green-keeper and professional golfer; gymnastic instructor;
athletic coach; policeman; or, with training and dieting, pugilist. At
a pinch, I could teach school."

K. B. Horsfal grinned and looked out of the car window at the
apparently never-ending sea of charred tree stumps through which we
were passing.

"Not very ambitious, sonny!--eh!"

"No,--that is the worst of it," I answered. "I do not seem to have
been planned for anything ambitious. Besides, I have no desire to
amass millions at the sacrifice of my peace of mind. Why!--a
millionaire cannot call his life his own. He is at the beck and call
of everybody. He is consulted here and harassed there. He is dunned,
solicited and blackmailed; he is badgered and pestered until, I should
fancy, he wished his millions were at the bottom of the deep, blue sea."

"Lord, man!" exclaimed Mr. Horsfal, "but you have hit it right. One
would almost think you had been through it yourself."

"I have not," I answered, "but I know most of the diseases that attack
the man of wealth."

"Now, you have given me an idea of what you might _have_ to do. But to
get back to desire or choice;--what would it be then?" he inquired, as
the electric tram passed at last from the tree stumps and began to
draw, through signs of habitation, toward the city.

"If I had my desire and my choice, Mr. Horsfal, they would be: in such
a climate as we have here but away somewhere up the coast, with the sea
in front of me and the trees and the hills behind me; the open air, the
sunlight; contending with the natural,--not the artificial,--obstacles
of life; work, with a sufficiency of leisure; quiet, when quiet were
desired; and, in the evening as the sun went down into the sea or
behind the hills, a cosy fire, a good book and my pipe going good."

K. B. Horsfal, millionaire, patentee, lumberman and meat-packer, looked
at me, sighed and nodded his head.

"After all, my boy," he said, almost sadly, "I shouldn't wonder if that
isn't better than all the helli