"I know that Mr. Stover is very wealthy and I have lots of confidence in both his honesty and ability. Speaking of what he said about educated people lacking practical knowledge, I have often heard my father refer to their inability to make money. He said that one reason so many educated men were poor was due to the fact that many of them spent the best years of their lives in lines of work where there were no opportunities to make money. This, he said, was often the case with preachers and teachers. After they find that their meager salaries will not provide for the increasing needs of their families, or when they realize that old age is creeping on them and that when they can no longer serve as pastor or teacher the gaunt wolf which has been hounding their steps for years will draw nearer until at last his hot breath will be felt on their cheeks and later his fangs will tear their flesh, they quit their jobs in desperation and attempt to compete without capital with men who have been studying the business game and acquiring capital all of their lives; it is no wonder that many fail. The wonder is that so many succeed. Sometimes the educated man has ideals that will not permit him to make money in ways others who succeed consider legitimate." "I believe you have missed your calling. What an orator you are!" "I was just telling you what my father said." "No doubt what your father says is true in regard to the classes you mentioned. I am thinking more of those who work all their lives in the line of their talents but fail to cash in, as musicians, artists, poets, designers, etc. Some fellows with ability often sit around and let other fellows with much less talent surpass them in making money out of their talents. Why? Because one fellow lacks practical sense and the other possesses it." Ruth felt that Golter had come just as near naming architects as he felt he dared to. "Changing the subject, who are you going to vote for, for mayor?" he asked. "I am not old enough to vote," she replied. "Oh, excuse me, I should have thought of that. I am sure you do not look old enough to be a voter. How stupid of me!" He continued to make most profuse apologies. "That's all right. You needn't try to fix it. I know you mistook me for an old grandmother," she said, laughing. After they had driven about for an hour Ruth suggested that she must return home. As she stepped from the car Golter attempted to compliment her on her good looks, but she interrupted him with a curt good-night. She found her father still sitting where she had left him in his great arm chair, asleep over his paper. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and spoke to him, "Daddy, wake up." He opened his eyes with a start. "It's you, is it, Ruth? I was dreaming." "What did you dream about, Daddy?"