elow. Her eyes were blazing,
her face all animation.

Father Fitzpatrick came over and stood beside her. His face was sad.
"It's a--" He stopped abruptly, and looked down into her glowing face.
He cleared his throat. "It's a perfectly natural state of affairs," he
said smoothly. "Winnebago's growing. Especially over there on the west
side, since the new mill went up, and they've extended the street car
line. They need the land to build on. It's business. And money."

"Business! It's a crime! It's wanton! Those ravines are the most
beautiful natural spots in Wisconsin. Why, they're history, and romance,
and beauty!"

"So that's the way you feel about it?"

"Of course. Don't you? Can't you stop it? Petitions--"

"Certainly I feel it's an outrage. But I'm just a poor fool of a priest,
and sentimental, with no head for business. Now you're a business woman,
and different."

"I! You're joking."

"Say, listen, m' girl. The world's made up of just two things: ravines
and dump heaps. And the dumpers are forever edging up, and squeedging
up, and trying to grab the ravines and spoil 'em, when nobody's looking.
You've made your choice, and allied yourself with the dump heaps. What
right have you to cry out against the desecration of the ravines?"

"The right that every one has that loves them."

"Child, you're going to get so used to seeing your ravines choked up at
Haynes-Cooper that after a while you'll prefer 'em that way."

Fanny turned on him passionately. "I won't! And if I do, perhaps it's
just as well. There's such a thing as too much ravine. What do you want
me to do? Stay here, and grub away, and become a crabbed old maid like
Irma Klein, thankful to be taken around by the married crowd, joining
the Aid Society and going to the card parties on Sunday nights? Or I
could marry a traveling man, perhaps, or Lee Kohn of the Golden Eagle.
I'm just like any other ambitious woman with brains--"

"No you're not. You're different. And I'll tell you why. You're a Jew."

"Yes, I've got that handicap."

"That isn't a handicap, Fanny. It's an asset. Outwardly you're like
any other girl of your age. Inwardly you've been molded by occupation,
training, religion, history, temperament, race, into something--"

"Ethnologists have proved that there is no such thing as a Jewish race,"
she interrupted pertly.

"H'm. Maybe. I don't know what you'd call it, then. You can't take a
people and persecute them for thousands of year