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〃Just what Mr。 Vedder said；〃 I exclaimed。
〃Yes；〃 he continued； 〃it's all right in theory； but in this case it simply won't work。 Don't you see it's got to be war？ Your friend and I could probably understand each otherbut this is a class war。 It's all or nothing with us； and your friend Vedder knows it as well as we do。〃
After some further argument and explanation； I said：
〃I see： and this is Socialism。〃
〃Yes；〃 said the great R… D…； 〃this is Socialism。〃
〃And it's force you would use；〃 I said。
〃It's force THEY use；〃 he replied。
After I left the strike headquarters that eveningfor it was almost dark before I parted with the committeeI walked straight out through the crowded streets； so absorbed in my thoughts that I did not know in the least where I was going。 The street lights came out； the crowds began to thin away； I heard a strident song from a phonograph at the entrance to a picture show； and as I passed again in front of the great； dark； many…windowed mill which had made my friend Vedder a rich man I saw a sentinel turn slowly at the corner。 The light glinted on the steel of his bayonet。 He had a fresh； fine； boyish face。
〃We have some distance yet to go in this world；〃 I said to myself； 〃no man need repine for lack of good work ahead。〃
It was only a little way beyond this mill that an incident occurred which occupied probably not ten minutes of time； and yet I have thought about it since I came home as much as I have thought about any other incident of my pilgrimage。 I have thought how I might have acted differently under the circumstances； how I could have said this or how I ought to have done thatall； of course； now to no purpose whatever。 But I shall not attempt to tell what I ought to have done or said； but what I actually did do and say on the spur of the moment。
It was in a narrow； dark street which opened off the brightly lighted main thoroughfare of that mill neighbourhood。 A girl standing in the shadows between two buildings said to me as I passed：
〃Good evening。〃
I stopped instantly； it was such a pleasant； friendly voice。
〃Good evening；〃 I said； lifting my hat and wondering that there should be any one here in this back street who knew me。
〃Where are you going？〃 she asked。
I stepped over quickly toward her； hat in hand。 She was a mere slip of a girl； rather comely； I thought； with small childish features and a half…timid； half…bold look in her eyes。 I could not remember having seen her before。
She smiled at meand then I knew！
Well； if some one had struck me a brutal blow in the face I could not have been more astonished。
We know of things！and yet how little we know until they are presented to us in concrete form。 Just such a little school girl as I have seen a thousand times in the country； the pathetic childish curve of the chin； a small rebellious curl hanging low on her temple。
I could not say a word。 The girl evidently saw in my face that something was the matter； for she turned and began to move quickly away。 Such a wave of compassion （and anger； too） swept over me as I cannot well describe。 I stepped after her and asked in a low voice：
〃Do you work in the mills？〃
〃Yes； when there's work。〃
〃What is your name？〃
〃Maggie〃
〃Well； Maggie；〃 I said； 〃let's be friends。〃
She looked around at me curiously； questioningly。
〃And friends；〃 I said； 〃should know something about each other。 You see I am a farmer from the country。 I used to live in a city myself； a good many years ago； but I got tired and sick and hopeless。 There was so much that was wrong about it。 I tried to keep the pace and could not。 I wish I could tell you what the country has done for me。〃
We were walking along slowly； side by side； the girl perfectly passive but glancing around at me from time to time with a wondering look。 I don't know in the least now what prompted me to do it； but I began telling in a quiet； low voicefor； after all； she was only a childI began telling her about our chickens at the farm and how Harriet had named them all； and one was Frances E。 Willard； and one； a speckled one； was Martha Washington； and I told her of the curious antics of Martha Washington and of the number of eggs she laid； and of the sweet new milk we had to drink； and the honey right out of our own hives； and of the things growing in the garden。
Once she smiled a little； and once she looked around at me with a curious； timid； half…wistful expression in her eyes。
〃Maggie；〃 I said； 〃I wish you could go to the country。〃
〃I wish to God I could；〃 she replied。
We walked for a moment in silence。 My head was whirling with thoughts： again I had that feeling of helplessness； of inadequacy； which I had felt so sharply on the previous evening。 What could I do？
When we reached the corner； I said：
〃Maggie； I will see you safely home。〃
She laugheda hard； bitter laugh。
〃Oh； I don't need any one to show me around these streets！〃
〃I will see you home；〃 I said。
So we walked quickly along the street together。
〃Here it is；〃 she said finally； pointing to a dark； mean…looking； one…story house； set in a dingy； barren areaway。
〃Well； good night； Maggie；〃 I said； 〃and good luck to you。〃
〃Good night；〃 she said faintly。
When I had walked to the corner； I stopped and looked back。 She was standing stock…still just where I had left hera figure I shall never forget。
I have hesitated about telling of a further strange thing that happened to me that nightbut have decided at last to put it in。 I did not accept Mr。 Vedder's invitation： I could not； but I returned to the room in the tenement where I had spent the previous night with Bill Hahn the Socialist。 It was a small； dark； noisy room； but I was so weary that I fell almost immediately into a heavy sleep。 An hour or more later I don't know how long indeedI was suddenly awakened and found myself sitting bolt upright in bed。 It was close and dark and warm there in the room； and from without came the muffled sounds of the city。 For an instant I waited； rigid with expectancy。 And then I heard as clearly and plainly as ever I heard anything：
〃David！ David！〃 in my sister Harriet's voice。
It was exactly the voice in which she has called me a thousand times。 Without an instant's hesitation； I stepped out of bed and called out：
〃I'm coming； Harriet！ I'm coming！〃
〃What's the matter？〃 inquired Bill Hahn sleepily。
〃Nothing；〃 I replied； and crept back into bed。
It may have been the result of the strain and excitement of the previous two days。 I don't explain itI can only tell what happened。
Before I went to sleep again I determined to start straight for home in the morning： and having decided； I turned over； drew a long； comfortable breath and did not stir again； I think； until long after the morning sun shone in at the window。
CHAPTER XII。 THE RETURN
〃Everything divine runs with light feet。〃
Surely the chief delight of going away from home is the joy of getting back again。 I shall never forget that spring morning when I walked from the city of Kilburn into the open country； my bag on my back； a song in my throat； and the gray road stretching straight before me。 I remember how eagerly； I looked out across the fields and meadows and rested my eyes upon the distant hills。 How roomy it all was！ I looked up into the clear blue of the sky。 There was space here to breathe； and distances in which the spirit might spread its wings。 As the old prophet says； it was a place where a man might be placed alone in the midst of the earth。
I was strangely glad that morning of every little stream that ran under the bridges； I was glad of the trees I passed； glad of every bird and squirrel in the branches； glad of the cattle grazing in the fields； glad of the jolly boys I saw on their way to school with their dinner pails； glad of the bluff； red…faced teamster I met； and of the snug farmer who waved his hand at me and wished me a friendly good morning。 It seemed to me that I liked every one I saw； and that every one liked me。
So I walked onward that morning； nor ever have had such a sense of relief and escape； nor ever such a feeling of gayety。
〃Here is where I belong；〃 I said。 〃This is my own country。 Those hills are mine； and all the fields； and the trees and the sky and the road here belongs to me as much as it does to any one。〃
Coming presently to a small house near the side of the road； I saw a woman working with a trowel in her sunny garden。 It was good to see her turn over the warm brown soil； it was good to see the plump green rows of lettuce and the thin green rows of onions； and the nasturtiums and sweet peas； it was goodafter so many days in that desert of a cityto get a whiff of blossoming things。 I stood for a moment looking quietly over the fence before the woman saw me。 When at last she turned and looked up； I said：
〃Good morning。〃
She paused； trowel in hand。
〃Good morning；〃 she replied； 〃you look happy。〃
I wasn't conscious that I was smiling outwardly。
〃Well； I am；〃 I said； 〃I'm going home。〃
〃Then you OUGHT to be happy；〃 said she。
〃And I'm glad to escape THAT；〃 and I pointed toward the city。
〃What？〃
〃Why； that old monster lying there in the valley。〃
I could see that she