ssitudes of modern international commerce,
who has organized into a condition of high efficiency an industrial
army of several thousand working-men and women. And Mr. Cahoon, in a
curious hard way, was touched with idealisms; I discovered,
accidentally, that he devotes his spare time on Saturdays to the
instruction of young men in cricket and football. His Sunday
afternoons he gives to an immense Bible-class for boys of fifteen or
sixteen. He has built and maintains, on the sole condition that he
does not actually lose money by it, a kind of model village in a
suburban district of Belfast. In order to look after this village
properly he gets up at five o'clock in the morning on three days in
the week. In winter, when his social work is in full swing, he spends
almost all his evenings at a large Working-Men's club. He spends his
summer holidays in the seaside camp of The Boys' Brigade. It would be
difficult to find a man who crams more work into what are supposed to
be his leisure hours. He has, of course, little time for reading and
he never travels. His devotion to good works leaves him no opportunity
for culture, and accounts for the fact that he believes the things
which Babberly says on platforms. He would, I did not actually try him
with the subject, but I have no doubt he would, have brushed the
philosophy of Emmanuel Kant into the world's waste-basket with his
unvarying formula: It wouldn't do in Belfast. They are business men
there.

We worried on about his fear of the over-taxation of Belfast and the
industrial North. I tried to get from him some definite account of the
exact taxes which he feared. I tried to get him to explain how he
proposed to fight, against whom he intended to fight, who might be
expected to fight on his side. I do not think he got angry with me for
my persistency, but his contempt for me steadily increased. I am not a
business man and so I could not possibly, so he hinted, understand how
they feel about the matter in Belfast.

"But do you think," I said, "that your workmen will go out and be shot
in order to save you from paying an extra penny in the pound income
tax? That's what it comes to, you know, and I don't see why they
should do it. They don't pay income tax, or for that matter death
duties."

Cahoon looked me full in the face for nearly half a minute without
replying. Then he took out his watch and looked at it. Then he took me
by the arm and led me towards the yard.

"Did y