He swung around in his chair and struck his desk with his fist to
emphasize his words. Mr. Gratz, whose opinions were the more obnoxious
because he was a stockholder of the company, sniffed. The way he had of
sniffing was like a red rag to a bull, and he meant it as such. The
president accepted it in the spirit in which it was meant. He said:
"Bah!"

"I will tell you what it is," said Mr. Gratz, pushing his chin up at the
president. "It is the most idiotic--"

[Illustration: "_'I will tell you what it is,' said Mr. Gratz_"]

"Don't tell me!" cried Mr. Smalley. "I don't want you to tell me
anything! What do you know about the English language, anyhow? 'Gratz!'
That is a pretty name for a man who pretends to have a right to say how
the English language shall be spelled! Don't I know your history, Mr.
Gratz? Don't I know you had your name changed from Gratzensteinburgher?
And you pretend to be worried because our President and the most
talented men in the country want to drop a few useless letters out of a
measly three hundred words! I tell you these changes in spelling should
have been made long ago. Long ago. This is the business man's age, Mr.
Gratz-and-the-rest-of-it. Yes, sir! And you, as a business man, should
be proud of this concession made by our most noted scholars to the needs
of the business man."

"Look at 'em!" sneered Mr. Gratz, patting the list of three hundred
revised words with his finger, and shoving the newspaper under Mr.
Smalley's nose. "Poor bob-tailed, one-eyed mongrels! Progress! It is
anarchy--impudence--Look at this--'t-h-r-u!' What kind of a word is
that? 'T-h-o!' What kind of a thing is that? What in the world is a