And What We Gain 225 



life. Clothing which may be out of place in 

 town may become just the thing in the country 

 life, even though its cost is insignificant as 

 compared to the dress of the city man. Were 

 my income twenty times as large as it is, I 

 should not care to dress better than I do. For 

 the children blue-flannel dresses are cheap, but 

 could anything be more appropriate for the life 

 on the water which they lead? 



In one of his books on fishing, Frank Forester 

 (H. W. Herbert) says that if he led the life of 

 a backwoodsman, and dwelt in a cabin on top 

 of a mountain, he should still put on evening 

 dress for dinner. This is an exaggeration, but 

 there is truth behind. Slovenly, ill-fitting, 

 dirty, ragged clothing may lead to slovenly 

 habits of mind, and are not the necessary ac- 

 companiments of such life as I prescribe. 



One of my critics, for whom I have great 

 personal deference, tells me that my theory of 

 life tends to a relapse into barbarism, and in 

 illustration of the truth of his position, he 

 pointed one evening to a music-stand near the 

 piano with the remark: "With your ideas, that 

 stand would never be made of mahogany and 



