politics, that it was no wonder that a people with such a cuisine
should have rebelled. The travelers were in a rebellious mood most
of the time.

The evidences of enterprise in this region were pleasant to see, but
the observers could not but regret, after all, the intrusion of the
money-making spirit, which is certain to destroy much of the present
simplicity. It is as yet, to a degree, tempered by a philosophic
spirit. The other guest of the house was a sedate, long-bearded
traveler for some Philadelphia house, and in the evening he and the
landlord fell into a conversation upon what Socrates calls the
disadvantage of the pursuit of wealth to the exclusion of all noble
objects, and they let their fancy play about Vanderbilt, who was
agreed to be the richest man in the world, or that ever lived.

"All I want," said the long-bearded man, "is enough to be
comfortable. I would n't have Vanderbilt's wealth if he'd give it to
me."

"Nor I," said the landlord. "Give me just enough to be comfortable."
[The tourist couldn't but note that his ideas of enough to be
comfortable had changed a good deal since he had left his little farm
and gone into the mica business, and visited New York, and enlarged
and painted his tavern.] I should like to know what more Vanderbilt
gets out of his money than I get out of mine. I heard tell of a
young man who went to Vanderbilt to get employment. Vanderbilt
finally offered to give the young man, if he would work for him, just
what he got himself. The young man jumped at that--he'd be perfectly
satisfied with that pay. And Vanderbilt said that all he got was
what he could eat and wear, and offered to give the young man his