raillery, or whether he
had merely heard a quaint statement of facts.

Claude-Amelius-Goldenheart saw that he had produced an unfavourable
impression, and hastened to set himself right.

"Excuse me, sir," he said, "I am not making game of you, as you seem to
suppose. We are taught to be courteous to everybody, in our Community.
The truth is, there seems to be something odd about me (I'm sure I don't
know what), which makes people whom I meet on my travels curious to know
who I am. If you'll please to remember, it's a long way from Illinois to
New York, and curious strangers are not scarce on the journey. When one
is obliged to keep on saying the same thing over and over again, a
form saves a deal of trouble. I have made a form for myself--which is
respectfully at the disposal of any person who does me the honour to
wish for my acquaintance. Will that do, sir? Very well, then; shake
hands, to show you're satisfied."

Mr. Hethcote shook hands, more than satisfied. He found it impossible to
resist the bright honest brown eyes, the simple winning cordial manner
of the young fellow with the quaint formula and the strange name. "Come,
Mr. Goldenheart," he said, leading the way to a seat on deck, "let us
sit down comfortably, and have a talk."

"Anything you like, sir--but don't call me Mr. Goldenheart."

"Why not?"

"Well, it sounds formal. And, besides, you're old enough to be my
father; it's _my_ duty to call _you_ Mister--or Sir, as we say to
our elders at Tadmor. I have left all my friends behind me at the
Community--and I feel lonely out here on this big ocean, among
strangers. Do me a kindness, sir. Call me by my Christian name; and give
me a friendly slap on the back if you find we get along smoothly in the
course of the day."

"Which of your names shall it be?" Mr. Hethcote asked, humouring this
odd lad. "Claude?"

"No. Not Claude. The Primitive Christians said Claude was a finicking
French name. Call me Amelius, and I shall begin to feel at home again.
If you're in a hurry, cut it down to three letters (as they did at
Tadmor), and call me Mel."

"Very good," said Mr. Hethcote. "Now, my friend Amelius (or Mel), I
am going to speak out plainly, as you do. The Primitive Christian
Socialists must have great confidence in their system of education, to
turn you adrift in the world without a companion to look after you."

"You've hit it, sir," Amelius answered coolly. "They have unlimited
confidence in their s