True to his creed, his faith was in the people--the great mass of people whose instincts always led them to the right thing. It was a safe rule to go by--that of mistrusting the personality who did not measure up to the decent average. It was the way to keep sane and healthful. Socialists and anarchists and syndicalists and radicals in general--what were they but abnormalities? He would never be guilty of the narrow attitude that they ought to be hanged; they would quite naturally fritter themselves out; for what they were all trying to achieve was individualism pure and simple--and that would never buy bread for the working-man or lift him to happiness. He might not be right about these things, of course; but he had thought them out. Yes, he believed in the people; he believed in their rights; and he believed in being kind to them. There was no telling how much good a cheery smile might do, and so he smiled constantly. A great man had once told him that he made it a point to cultivate friendships only among those people who could help him; and this seemed very sensible to the democrat. He practiced it assiduously, with the result that he never lost that satisfying glow which comes in with shaking a hand that belongs with a full dress shirt. M. C. A. The Constructive Reasoner (_A Non-Mythical Allegory_) GEORGE SOULE He was born in the glacial age. They originally called him something else, but as soon as he was old enough to talk he lisped the tertiary dialect for "constructive reasoner"--when they paid any attention to him. Later he was recognized by his characteristic expression, "Yes, but--". When he was ten years old he watched his father, with much skill and heroism, slaying a musk ox. "Why did you kill him?" he asked. "To eat," was the reply. "Yes," replied the prodigy, "but what will you put in his place?" The misguided parent glared at his son without replying, and passed him a second joint, which was consumed with relish. The tragedy of his early life was to watch the glaciers slowly leveling mountains and laying up vast wastes of terminal moraine without conscious purpose. All this destruction weighed on his soul. He was ever an observer. As time went on, his intellect grew more ponderous. He saw mankind slay the dinosaurs, rob the earth of its minerals, hew down vast trees, and agitate the earth with rude plows. Agitators were particularly distasteful to him. He stood aloof from these movements, because he did not believe in destruction. And when men finally set sail on the seas, he was moved to poetic rancor. "You are destroying the mystery of the ocean" he cried. But he built himself a fine house from the products of their commerce.