THE IRRIGATION AGR. 



289 



said with a slight German accent, 

 "Are you one of us?" ''Not that 

 I know of," I answered, almost 

 wishing that I could be one, and 

 have as sweet a face as his, "un- 

 less we Anglo-Saxons belong to 

 one of the lost tribes of Israel." 

 The old man made no reply, and 

 soon after sought his room . 



I went into my cottage and 

 looked in the mirror to see what 

 was wrong, and came to the con- 

 clusion that I might have a slight 

 Jewish cast of feature, but why I 

 had been taken that week for Hen- 

 ry Irving, a preacher, a peddler, a 

 spy. a plantation manager and a 

 reformed drunkard, I couldn't un- 

 derstand. I now took out a yellow 

 covered novel that I had carried in 

 my pocket, "The Dynamiter/' by 

 Stevenson, and laid it aside to see 

 what effect that would have. 



I had learned not to struggle 

 against the exacting demands of 

 public opinion; demands which in 

 my youth I strenuously resisted. 

 And one of the lessons was from 

 an experience with a Panama hat, 

 an innocent, respectable looking, 

 clean, paid-for, Panama hat. It 

 caused more to offend than any 

 piece of meat I ever heard about. 

 I liked the hat and it was comfort- 

 able, so I took it with me from 

 Honolulu to Chicago. "When we 

 reached San Francisco, I put it on, 

 for it was May and very sunny. 

 Few persons noticed either the hat 

 or me; they are used to all sorts of 

 people in this happy city, and don't 

 stare at even a Turk. But when 

 we reached Chicago, where I con- 

 sidered myself entitled to some re- 

 spect, my hat worried several per- 

 sons. ""Well," said I to the Junior 



Partner, "it is warm enough for the 

 hat, and I will wear it. It is nobody's 

 business what you wear, if you 

 clothe yourself decently, besides, 

 this is a city of over a million and 

 there must be other hats like mine." 

 "I haven't seen another Panama 

 since we left, " said the Junior Part- 

 ner, "and if I repeated all I've 

 heard street passers-by say about 

 your hat, you'd discard it at once." 



"Not at all,'' I replied with a 

 deep determination not to conform, 

 "I don't care what they say. Then 

 I've seen white-felt hats in New 

 York in midwinter, and that's out 

 of season. If it were the fashion, 

 you could wear an old wash tub on 

 your head, and not interest any- 

 body. I am not a sheep." 



"Now." continued the Junior 

 partner, "I overheard one sayj"See 

 that fellow wonder if he has any- 

 thing under that hat?'' 



Another sneered, "He ought to 

 let his hair grow," and a pretty 

 young lady said to her companion, 

 "Do look at that long-nosed man 

 under the wide brimmed hat; I'd 

 like to paint him and call it 'Sum- 

 mer is here.' ' And when we were 

 going down State street yesterday, 

 a young man said loud for effect, 

 ' 'The new race course is round that 

 man's hat." 



"That's mere twaddle,'' I said in 

 answer, but I felt somewhat irrita- 

 ted, and made up my mind person- 

 ally to challenge some of the im- 

 pudent conformers. That same 

 day an opportunity presented. 



Three boys yelled out "Shoot 

 that hat!" "Boys" said I, going up 

 to them with death in my eyes, "I 

 am sorry you haven't been proper- 

 ly brought up. If you had, you 



