throwing out of that hole what I thought was red mud.

"Kind sir, why are they throwing that red mud out of that hole?" I
asked a native.

"That hain't red mud. That's iron ore, an' it's the best iron ore
in the world."

"What is it worth?"

"It hain't worth nothin' here; that's why they're movin' it away."

There's red mud around every community that "hain't worth nothin'"
until you move it--send it to college or somewhere.

Not very long after this, near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, I saw some
of this same red mud. It had been moved over the Great Lakes and
the rails to what they call a blast furnace, the technological name
of which being The College of Needful Knocks for Red Mud.

I watched this red mud matriculate into a great hopper with
limestone, charcoal and other textbooks. Then they corked it up and
school began. They roasted it. It is a great thing to be roasted.

When it was done roasting they stopped. Have you noticed that they
always stop when anything is done roasting? If we are yet getting
roasted, perhaps we are not done!

Then they pulled the plug out of the bottom of the college and held
promotion exercises. The red mud squirted out into the sand. It was