“You miss the point--the whole of you. Diogenes was a man who spurned the material things of this world. He tried to forget the body in the development of the mind and soul, so he lived in a tub, and----” “See here, young felly,” interrupted the Loafer, “fer an argyer you beat the band. First off ye conterdicted me fer sayin’ a man should take his time. Now ye come ’round my way, only worse. I never sayd a man should keep house in a tub. Why, his missus ’ud never give him no peace. No, sir; don’t ye git no fool idees like that in your head.” “But that is the truest philosophy----” “I know. Zebulon Pole got that wery idee after he was defeated fer county commissioner. He moped ’round the walley fer a year an’ final one day come to me an’ sayd he was goin’ to dewote the rest o’ his life to religious medytation. ‘It’s less trouble to git to heaven then the White House,’ he sayd, ‘fer a good deed is easier to do then an opposin’ candidate.’ It happened that at this time they hed ben a woman preacher holdin’ bush-meetin’s in our walley an’ he was a reg’lar attendant. She pounded away at wanity. All was wanity, she sayd. They wasn’t nawthin’ in this world wuth livin’ fer. Fine houses, fine clothes, slick buggies, fast horses, low-cut waist-coats--all them things was extrys which was no more needed fer man’s sperritual comfort then napkins fer his bodily nourishment. It didn’t take long fer them idees to spread in our walley, an’ Pole was one o’ the first to catch ’em. I mind comin’ home from fishin’ one day, I seen him a-settin’ on a fence chewin’ a straw an’ watchin’ the clouds scootin’ ’long overhead. “‘Ho, Zeb!’ I sais, shakin’ a nice string o’ trout under his nose. ‘Why ain’t ye out? They’s bitin’ good.’ “He looks at me outen the corner o’ his eye wery solemn. “‘Fishin’?’ he sais. “‘Yes, fishin’,’ I yells, kind o’ s’prised. ‘They’s bitin’ good.’ “‘All them things is wanity,’ sais he, straightenin’ up an’ pintin’ a finger o’ scorn at me. ‘Wanity o’ wanities. Let me warn ye, man. I’ve give up all them worldly pleasures. I’m set on higher things.’ “‘Six-rail fences,’ I answers, ‘all day long--chewin’ a straw--watchin’ clouds--wery elewatin’.’ “He give me a sad look. “‘What are ye doin’ now?’ sais I, not intendin’ to be put down even ef he hed ben school director. “‘I’m a lily,’ he sais. ‘I’m followin’ the words o’ that dear sister who has cast her lot among us. Henceforth I no longer considers the morrer. I toil not, nuther spin.’ “‘See here, Zeb,’ sais I. ‘You ain’t a bit my idee of a lily.’ “‘I don’t ast the approval o’ the world,’ sais he. “‘An’ ye wouldn’t git it ef ye did,’ sais I. ‘But still I s’pose ye might do pretty well in this new ockypation ef it wasn’t fer one thing.’ “‘What’s that?’ he asts. “‘Lilies don’t use tobacker,’ I answers. “That kind o’ jolted him. His eyes opened wide, an’ I seen a few tears. “‘I never thot o’ that,’ sais he.