pardon--are you a thief?"

"Oh, no," he answers, smilingly, "I am the agent of the Wholesale
Pickpockets' Association. This is Prosperity."

"I see," I reply. "And these people let you--"

"It is the law," he says. "It is also the gospel."

I turn, following his glance, and observe another person
approaching--a stately figure, clad in scarlet and purple robes,
moving with slow dignity. Ha gazes about at the sweating and grunting
hordes; now and then he stops and lifts his hands in a gesture of
benediction, and proclaims in rolling tones, "Blessed are the
Bootstrap-lifters, for theirs is the kingdom of Heaven." He moves on,
and after a bit stops and announces again, "Man doth not live by bread
alone, but by every word that cometh out of the mouth of the prophets
and priests of Bootstrap-lifting."

Watching a while longer, I see this majestic one approach the agent of
the Wholesale Pickpockets' Association. The agent greets him as a
friend, and proceeds to transfer to the pockets of his capacious robes
a generous share of the loot which he has collected. The majestic one
does not cringe, nor does he make any effort to hide what is going on.
On the contrary he cries aloud, "It is more blessed to give than to
receive!" And again he cries, "The laborer is worthy of his hire!" And
a third time he cries, yet more sternly, "Render unto Caesar the
things which are Caesar's!" And the Bootstrap-lifters pause long
enough to answer: "Lord have mercy upon us, and incline our hearts to
keep this law!" Then they renew their straining and tugging.