ere what he left behind him. Why, you might even say that
he was alive today! And see what Washington left behind him--and Fulton,
who invented the steamboat--and Morse who invented the telegraph. So it's
silly to say 'What's the use?' Suppose Columbus had said it--or any of
the others who have done great things in the world--"

It slowly came to her then, her doubts still lingering, how many are
called, how few are chosen.

"That's the trouble," she said. "We can't all be Washingtons. We can't
all do great things. And yet--an awful lot of people had to live so that
Washington could be born when he was....

"His parents: that was two. And his grand-parents: he must have had four.
And his great grand-parents: eight of them....

"Why, it's like the problem of the horse-shoe nails," she continued in
growing excitement. "In twenty-eight generations there must have been
millions and millions of people who lived--just so George Washington
could be born one day at Mt. Vernon--and grow up to make America free!
Yes, and every one of them was just as necessary as Washington himself,
because if it hadn't been for every single one of them--we would never
have had him!"

For a moment she seemed to be in touch with the infinite plan. Down the
hill she saw a woman in a black dress, crossing the street.

"Mrs. Ridge going out for the day," thought Mary, recognizing the figure
below. "Yes, and who knows? She may be a link in a chain which is leading
straight down to some one who will be greater than Washington--greater
than Shakespeare--greater than any man who ever lived...!" And her old
dreams, her old visions beginning to return, she added with a sigh, "Oh,
dear! I wish I could do something big and noble--so if all those millions
who are back of me are watching, they'll feel proud of what I'm doing and
nudge each other as if they were saying, 'You see? She's come at last.
That's us!'"

As you will realize, this last thought of Mary's suggested more than it
told--as I believe great thoughts often do--but at least I think you'll
be able to grasp the idea which she herself was groping after. At the
same time you mustn't suppose that she was constantly going around
dreaming, and trying to find expression for those vague strivings and
yearnings which come to us all at different times in our lives,
especially in the golden days of youth when the flood of ambition is
rising high within us--or again in later years when we feel the tid