“I suddenly divined the purpose of the society, and I said: ‘I want to subscribe. What are your terms?’ ‘A hundred dollars for a fifteen-minute séance, one hundred and fifty dollars for a half-hour, and two hundred dollars for a full hour.’ I handed him a hundred-dollar bill and said: ‘Explain.’ ‘Jack,’ said he, addressing a bullet-headed man who was sitting with his feet up on the railing that divided the room into two parts, ‘give this man a piece of your mind.’ Jack ran through a directory of millionaires containing photographs and short biographical sketches, and when he had found mine he sailed in and talked as plainly as any one could. Didn’t say a word that wasn’t true; but he didn’t mince his language, and he was no more abashed by my position in the world than if I’d still been a barefoot boy. It did me good. He overhauled many of my acts during the last twenty years, and talked to me like a Dutch uncle. Refreshed? Why, a Turkish bath is not in it for comfort! After he’d finished, the manager said I could have an extra in the way of a little billingsgate if I cared to; but, if I was born poor, I have always had gentlemanly instincts, and so I told him I guessed not. “As I came away, he said: ‘Glad to have you call any time that you feel the need of a few plain truths. We have a minister who says what he thinks in a very trenchant way, and I’m sure you’d be glad to let him give you a raking over. Here’s one of our cards. Drop in any time you’re passing. If, for any reason, you are not able to come, we can send a man to take up his abode in your house, or to give you half-hour talks from the shoulder, and you can have a monthly account with us. Say a good word for us to any of your plutocratic friends who are tired of sycophancy. Good day, old man.’” I was aghast at what he had told me, and I said: “I wonder at his temerity!” “Why,” said the millionaire, “I love him for it! After a directors’ meeting, when I have been kotowed to until my gorge rises, I just drop in there, and they tell me unpleasant truths about myself with the utmost freedom,--you see, they keep posted about me,--and I come out feeling a hundred per cent. better. Well, here’s my office. Good day, young man.” “Good day, sir, and thank you for letting me ride with you.” He slammed the door as if vexed, and as he approached the door of his office a negro ran to open it, and two office-boys took his coat and hat, and I envied the great man from the bottom of my heart. XIV A NEW USE FOR HORSES I met Scott Bindley the other day. Scott is a great schemer. I think he must be related on his mother’s side to Colonel Sellers. At any rate, there isn’t a day in the year that he doesn’t think of some idea that should interest capital, although capital, somehow, fails to become interested. As soon as he saw me he said: “Got a great scheme. Small fortune in it for the right parties.” “What is it?” I asked.