business a man can't solicit orders. He has to sit and wait for them to
come to him."

"I want to know. My wife thinks a lot of your drawings for the new
church."

"I hope to make it a credit to your city. I've just been saying to your
wife, Mr. Babcock, that Benham has a fine future before it. The very
atmosphere seems charged with progress."

Babcock beamed approvingly. "It's a driving place, sir. The man in
Benham who stops by the way-side to scratch his head gets left behind.
When we moved into this house a year ago looking through that window we
were at the jumping-off place; now you see houses cropping up in every
direction. It's going to be a big city. Pleased to have you stop to
supper with us," he added with burly suavity as their visitor rose.

Littleton excused himself and took his leave. Babcock escorted him to
the front door and full of his subject delayed him on the porch to touch
once more on the greatness of Benham. There was a clumsy method too in
this optimistic garrulity, for at the close he referred with some pride
to his own business career, and made a tender of his business card,
"Lewis Babcock & Company, Varnishes," with a flourish. "If you do
anything in my line, pleased to accommodate you."

Littleton departing, tickled by a pleasant sense of humor, caught
through the parlor window a last glimpse of Selma's inspired face bowing
gravely, yet wistfully, in acknowledgment of his lifted hat, and he
strode away under the spell of a brain picture which he transmuted into
words: "There's the sort of case where the cynical foreigner fails to