wheezing melodeon. Dreadful, isn't it?"

"You can get a fine organ for $2,000," said Mrs. Grimes.

"Yes, of course, but I wouldn't be mean about it; not mean on a million
dollars. Let them have a really good organ, say for $3,000 or $3,500;
and then build them a parsonage, too."

"The fact is," said Mrs. Grimes, "that people like us really ought to
have large wealth, for we know how to use it rightly."

"I often think of that," answered George. "If I know my own soul I long
to do good. It makes my heart bleed to see the misery about us, misery I
am absolutely unable to relieve. I am sure that if I really had a
million dollars I should not want to squander it on mere selfish
pleasure, nor would you. The greatest happiness any one can have is in
making others happy; and it is a wonder to me that our rich people don't
see this. Think of old General Jenkins and his twenty million dollars,
and what we would do for our neighbors with a mere fraction of that!"

"For we really want nothing much for ourselves," said Mrs. Grimes. "We
are entirely satisfied with what we have in this lovely little home and
with your $2,000 salary from the bank."

"Almost entirely," said George. "There are some few little things we
might add in--just a few; but with a million we could easily get them
and more and have such enormous amounts of money left."

"Almost the first thing I would do," said Mrs. Grimes, "would be to
settle a comfortable living for life on poor Isaac Wickersham. That man,
George, crippled as he is, lives on next to nothing. I don't believe he
has two hundred dollars a year."

"Well, we could give him twelve hundred and not miss it and then give
the same sum to Widow Clausen. She can barely keep alive."

"And there's another thing I'd do," said Mrs. Grimes. "If we kept a
carriage I would never ride up alone from the station or for pleasure. I
would always find some poor or infirm person to go with me. How people
can be so mean about their horses and carriages as some rich people are
is beyond my comprehension."

It is delightful pastime, expending in imagination large sums of money
that you haven't got. You need not regard considerations of prudence.
You can give free rein to your feelings and bestow your bounty with
reckless profusion. You obtain almost all the pleasure of large giving
without any cost. You feel nearly as happy as if you were actually doing
the good deeds which are the children of your fancy.

Geor