too, I took a good look at t my neigances, fifty or so of tinies, and t my dreams  a times over, just as yours  y t  tle rig a y and in a senseless  a typeer in to marry suco become some kind of drudge, as for a man like you to be forced in o o a razor. Perrouble erial and moral and ual—but it  understand your rot, your dislike of bars and dancing floors, your loat of it? I understand it only too ics as ter and irresponsible antics of ties and t  is to be, over all t people noions tion t, Steppen you must go to too exacting and ented oday. You oo many. s to live and enjoy oday must not be like you and me. s music instead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative ead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no rivial ;

    So meditation.

    quot;; I cried tenderly, quot;sister,  you taugrot! But  people like us oo many cannot live  brings it about? Is it only so in our days, or  so al;

    quot;I dont kno to be in our time only—a disease, a momentary misfortune. Our leaders strain every nerve, and o get t , earn money and eat ces—in sucime t indeed cut a poor figure. Let us  otimes ter, and ter again, ric t is no o us now. And per ;

    quot;Al is today? Alicians, profiteers, ers and pleasure-seekers, and not a breat;

    quot;ell, I dont kno is all t I am te of o me sometimes, and read me, too, some of ters, of Mozart.  rolled times and ruled t and gave tone and counted for somet Mozart or t or t faso die and be buried? And per