in a hurry
you'll probably see it purty soon.'

"All at once it would appear to 'em, an' it was apt to be an'
amusin' bit o' scenery.

"We've always been quick to see a point here, an' anxious to show
it to other people."

He leaned back and laughed as one foot sought the top of his desk.

"Our balloons rise from every walk o' life an' come down out o'
ballast," he went on. "Many of 'em touch ground in the great
financial aviation park that surrounds Wall Street. In our stages
of recovery the power of Lizzie has been widely felt."

Up went his other foot. I saw that the historical mood was upon
him.

"Talk about tryin' to cross the Atlantic in an air-ship--why,
that's conservative," he continued. "Right here in the eastern
part o' Connecticut lives a man who set out for the vicinity of the
moon with a large company--a joint-stock company--in his life-boat.
First he made the journey with the hot-air-ship of his mind, an'
came back with millions in the hold of his imagination. Then he
thought he'd experiment with a corporation of his friends--his
surplus friends. They got in on the ground floor, an' got out in
the sky. Most of 'em were thrown over for ballast. The Wellman of
this enterprise escaped with his life an' a little wreckage. He
was Mr. Thomas Robinson Barrow, an' he came to consult me about
his affairs. They were in bad shape.

"'Sell your big house an' your motor-cars,' I urged.

"'That would have been easy,' he answered, 'but Lizzie has spoilt
the market for luxuries. You remember how she got high notions up
at the Smythe school, an' began a life of extravagance, an' how we
all tried to keep up with her, an' how the rococo architecture
broke out like pimples on the face of Connecticut?'

"I smiled an' nodded.

"'Well, it was you, I hear, that helped her back to earth and
started her in the simpleton life. Since then she has been going
just as fast, but in the opposite direction, and we're still tryin'
to keep up with her. Now I found a man who was going to buy my
property, but suddenly his wife decided that they would get along
with a more modest outfit. She's trying to keep up with Lizzie.
Folks are getting wise.'

"'Why don't you?'

"'Can't.'

"'Why not?'

"'Because I'm a born fool. We're fettered; we're prisoners of
luxury.'

"Only a night or two before I had seen his wife at a reception with
a rope of pearls in her riggin' an' a search-light o' diamonds on
her forwa