"Because women do not like it." "What has that to do with it? Can't a man do what he wants to--even if they don't like it?" "Yes, he can; but it costs too much. Men like tobacco, but they like love better, old man." "Is it one of your legal requirements for marriage?" "No, not legal; but women disapprove of tobacco-y lovers, husbands, fathers; they know that the excessive use of it is injurious, and won't marry a heavy smoker. But the main point is that they simply don't like the smell of the stuff, or of the man who uses it--most women, that is." "But what _difference does_ it make? I dare say that most women did not like it before, but surely a man has a right----" "To make himself a disgusting object to his wife," Owen interrupted. "Yes, he has a 'right' to. We would have a right to bang on a tin pan, I suppose--or to burn rubber, but he wouldn't be popular!" "It's tyranny!" I protested. "Not at all," he said, imperturbably. "We had no idea what a nuisance we used to be, that's all; or how much women put up with that they did not like at all. I asked a woman once--when I was a bachelor--why she objected to tobacco, and she frankly replied that a man who did not smoke was much pleasanter to kiss! She was a very fascinating little widow--I confess it made me think." "It's the same with liquor, I suppose? Let's get it all told." "Yes, only more so. Alcoholism was a race evil of the worst sort. I cannot imagine how we put up with it so long." "Is this spotless world of yours one solid temperance union?" "Practically. We use some light wines and a little spirits yet, but infrequently--in this country, at least, and Europe is vastly improved. "But that was a much more serious thing than the other. It wasn't a mere matter of not marrying! They used all kinds of means. But come on--we'll be late to dinner; and dinner, at least, is still a joy, Brother John." CHAPTER VI Out of the mass of information offered by my new family and the pleasant friends we met, together with the books and publications profusely piling around me, I felt it necessary to make a species of digest for my own consideration. This I submitted to Nellie, Owen, and one or two others, adding suggestions and corrections; and thus established in my own mind a coherent view of what had happened. In the first place, as Owen repeatedly assured me, nothing was _done_--finished--brought to static perfection. "Thirty years isn't much, you see," he said cheerfully. "I dare say if you'd been here all along you wouldn't think it was such a great advance. We have removed some obvious and utterly unnecessary evils, and cleared the ground for new beginnings; but what we are going to do is the exciting thing! "Now you think it is so wonderful that we have no poverty. We think it is still more wonderful that a world of even partially sane people could have borne poverty so long."