The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-10-05
RY RUSSELL MILLER
COPYRIGHT. 9lO i. BY
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 He knew that over the land were a Hundred million others like those of his city-an struggling always, produc- ing always. giving to humanity the equivalent for the right and means to live. giving more than the equivalent. giving more and better than they re ceived from the world. A brave, pa tient, hardworking, faithful. deserving people thesel Pity the man who could not feel thrill of pride that he was one of them! Bob suddenly knew that love of one's people is distinct. defi- mite. overmastering emotion which ex- alts a man and dwarfs his petty self.
 He knew of the great common" people of the land. whose lives are be ing worn out. in the effort to produce far more than they consume. at the end having nothing but the necessity for increased. harder effort, looking about them in dazed wonder and plaintively demanding: "Why is it that we cannot rest? Why have we noth- ing7 Whither has it gone-that which we have created?'
 Whither had it gope? He knew the answer. It gloomed solemnly down at him from million dollar palaces, honk- ed hoarsely through the streets from costly imported automobiles. flashed brilliantly from bejeweied fingers. kept gleaming necks and shoulders warm in the face of shivering poverty, gur- gled in Eoblets of precious vintages. raced panting under the wire. Above all, he read the answer in the terrific power of the modern feHdal system, concentrated wealth, whose machinery was slowly crupching, crunching. crunching. his people into helpless subjection.
 How had such things come to pass7 An. that question he could answer, since he himself had once been part of the system! He knew far better than did his patient. blinded people the enormous sums of money needed to fire the engines that run the na- tion's political machinery and whence that corruption fund came.
 A nation. a great people. was being bought, was being sold into Slavery.
 And all this was wrong. in denial of the ideals of the commonwealth, in disobedience of the natural law which says, ''Let mans reward be meas ured by his value to humanity" He would do nothing to disturb the just balance of the state. To his executive brain organization and equilibrium were prime essentials. But there was -there must be-some means by which the injustice could be corrected, the worlds happiness and the reward of effort more equitably distributed He could not then propound the rem edy. But one thing he knew-the rem edy when found could never be ap- piled so long as the machinery of gov. ernment remained in the power of those against whom the remedy was to apply.
 What was to be his part? That ques- ton had been answered when Haggin told him of his city's sorrowing in his suffering. These people-his people! He was humbled to the dust. And then. even in his humility, he was raised again by the inspiration that was never to forsake him.
 'I have been failure" thought this man whose brilliant success nation was considering wonderingly. ''since I have missed the real meaning of life. These are my people; they need me. Let me seryer
 .Let me server Kathleen repeated slowly.
 It was easy to lay ones heart bare to Kathleen.
 Kathleen" - and his voice was husky, as it had been when he had spoken the same words of a woman whom he had hurt-"Kathleen, I've many things to make up to many peo- pie. And want to do It. I have Inis- used myself. see it all now-what I've rc --,sed to see all my life. Kath- 1een. something has gone out of Iae."
 You mean." she said gently. that something has come into your heart- the greatest of all things"
 He smiled at her. 1t seemed to Kath- leen that his thin. ugly face. alight, with his new fnspirat ton, was the most beautiful in the world.
 And you will be happy, Bob. as you have never been" There was a catch in her voice.
 Kathleen" he answered gravely, "it was once my boast that 1 thought nothing of happiness. Pm not thinking of happiness now"
 He lost himself once more in his vision. forgetting her.
 She left him and went to her room to stifle. if she could, the vain hunger that had never died out of her heart.