nation, and of the world, is quite beyond temperate expression. Few rays
of joy seem to illuminate his pathway.

As we approached in the town road I called out to him:

"Good morning."

He paused and, to my surprise, responded:

"Are you happy?"

It had not occurred to me for some time whether I was happy or not, so I
replied:

"I don't know; why do you ask?"

He looked at me in a questioning, and I thought rather indignant, way.

"Why shouldn't a man be happy?" I pressed him.

"Why _should_ he be? Answer me that!" he responded, "Why should he be?
Look at the world!"

With that he passed onward with a kind of crushing dignity.

I have laughed since when I have recalled the tone of his voice as he
said, "Look at the world!" Gloomy and black it was. It evidently made
him indignant to be here.

But at the moment his bitter query, the essential attitude of spirit