the slightest effort, and apparently without causing his heart one
emotion. If the young doctor had not known him so well, he would have
thought him entirely unconcerned:

"We are cursed, you and I, and all of us," he resumed, with too much
activity. We are obscessed with a passion for material achievement! We
are hand-worshippers--leg-worshippers--speed-worshippers. We mistake
activity for progress."

"But it is progress," burst from the young man, "activity does bring
achievement--development."

The door of the office opened suddenly, and two young fellows rushed
in.

"Are you coming to the lacrosse meeting, Doc,--we are going to
organize, and we want you for President again, of course."

Then, seeing the city doctor, whom they recognized,--

"Excuse the interruption, but we can't get on without Dr. Clay, he's
the whole works of the lacrosse team."

"I will not be able to go over tonight, boys," said the Doctor, "but
you'll get on all right. You are getting to work pretty early--this is
the first fine day."

When the lacrosse boys had gone, Dr. Clay finished his argument:

"These fellows prove what I was saying. When I came here six years