wise expenditure of all that money.

So I go on wondering what education is, and nobody seems quite
willing to tell me. I bought some wall-paper once, and when it had
been hung there was so much laughter at my taste, or lack of it,
that, in my chagrin, I selected another pattern to cover up the
evidence of my ignorance. But that is expensive, and a schoolmaster
can ill afford such luxurious ignorance. People were unkind enough
to say that the bare wall would have been preferable to my first
selection of paper, I was made conscious that complete living was
impossible so long as that paper was visible. But even when the
original had been covered up I looked at the wall suspiciously to see
whether it would show through as a sort of subdued accusation against
me. I don't pretend to know whether taste in the selection of
wall-paper is inherent or acquired. If it can be acquired, then I
wonder, again, just how cube root helps it along.

I don't know what education is, but I do know that it is expensive.
I had some pictures in my den that seemed well enough till I came to
look at some others, and then they seemed cheap and inadequate. I
tried to argue myself out of this feeling, but did not succeed. As a
result, the old pictures have been supplanted by new ones, and I am
poorer in consequence. But, in spite of my depleted purse, I take
much pleasure in my new possessions and feel that they are
indications of progress. I wonder, though, how long it will be till
I shall want still other and better ones. Education may be a good
thing, but it does increase and multiply one's wants. Then, in a
brief time, these wants become needs, and there you have perpetual
motion. When the agent came to me first to try to get me interested
in an encyclopaedia I could scarce refrain from smiling. But later
on I began to want an encyclopaedia, and now the one I have ranks as
a household necessity the same as bathtub, coffee-pot, and
tooth-brush.

But, try as I may, I can't clearly distinguish between wants and
needs. I see a thing that I want, and the very next day I begin to
wonder how I can possibly get on without it. This must surely be the
psychology of show-windows and show-cases. If I didn't see the
article I should feel no want of it, of course. But as soon as I see
it I begin to want it, and then I think I need it. The county fair
is a great psychological institution, because it causes people to
want things and then