typical man thinks so little of time that it has never occurred to
him to take quite easy precautions against the risk of its loss.

He has a solid coin of time to spend every day--call it a sovereign.
He must get change for it, and in getting change he is content to
lose heavily.

Supposing that in selling him a ticket the company said, "We will
change you a sovereign, but we shall charge you three halfpence for
doing so," what would my typical man exclaim? Yet that is the
equivalent of what the company does when it robs him of five minutes
twice a day.

You say I am dealing with minutiae. I am. And later on I will
justify myself.

Now will you kindly buy your paper and step into the train?



V

TENNIS AND THE IMMORTAL SOUL

You get into the morning train with your newspaper, and you calmly
and majestically give yourself up to your newspaper. You do not
hurry. You know you have at least half an hour of security in front
of you. As your glance lingers idly at the advertisements of
shipping and of songs on the outer pages, your air is the air of a
leisured man, wealthy in time, of a man from some planet where there