"Remember your economic platitude, Mr. Robertson," Dr. Harkness suggested. "The whole world's life, comfort, prosperity and progress depends upon the work done, you know. It was not _their_ living they were working for; it was the world's." "That is very pretty as a sentiment," I was beginning; but his twinkling eye reminded that an economic platitude is not precisely sentimental. "That's where the change came," Mr. Pike eagerly repeated. "The idea that each man had to do it for himself kept us blinded to the fact that it was all social service; that they worked for the world, and the world treated them shamefully--so shamefully that their product was deteriorated, markedly deteriorated." "You will be continually surprised, Mr. Robertson, at the improvements of our output," remarked Mr. Brown. "We have standards in every form of manufacture, required standards; and to label an article incorrectly is a misdemeanor." "That was just starting in the pure-food agitation, you remember," my sister put in--('with apple juice containing one-tenth of one per cent, of benzoate of soda'). "And now," Mr. Brown continued, "'all wool' is all wool; if it isn't, you can have the dealer arrested. Silk is silk, nowadays, and cream is cream." "And 'caveat emptor' is a dead letter?" "Yes, it is 'caveat vendor' now. You see, selling goods is public service." "You apply that term quite differently from what it stood for in my memory," said I. "It used to mean some sort of beneficent statesmanship, at first," Nellie agreed. "Then it spread to various philanthropic efforts and wider grades of government activities. Now it means any kind of world work." She saw that this description did not carry much weight with me, and added, "Any kind of human work, John; that is, work a man gives his whole time to and does not himself consume, is world work--is social service." "If a man raises, by his own labor, just enough to feed himself--that is working for himself," Mr. Brown explained, "but if he raises more corn than he consumes, he is serving humanity." "But he does not give it away," I urged; "he is paid for it." "Well, you paid the doctor who saved your child's life, but the doctor's work was social service none the less--and the teacher's--anybody's." "But that kind of work benefits humanity--" "Yes, and does it not benefit humanity to eat--to have shoes and clothes and houses? John, John, wake up!" Nellie for the first time showed impatience with me. But my brother-in-law extended a protecting arm. "Now, Nellie, don't hurry him. This thing will burst upon him all at once. Of course, it's glaringly plain, but there was a time when you and I did not see it either." I was a little sulky. "Well, as far as I gather," and I took out my note book, "people all of a sudden changed all their ideas about everything--and your demi-millennium followed."