WHAT WE LOSE AND WHAT WE GAIN. 195 



black who blacks their shoes, the washerwoman 

 who brings home their shirts, and the President 

 of the United States, if they are lucky enough 

 to meet him, printing all that the washerwoman, 

 the boot-black, and the President, may have to 

 say about their respective businesses. The 

 stuff is ground over and over again. Nothing 

 interesting can come from people who have no 

 ideas, and ideas do not come by dint of gabble. 

 Silence is golden. In my orchard there is 

 silence. I have always admired Webster's reply 

 to a barber, who asked him how he wished to 

 be shaved. " In silence," replied the great man. 

 I suppose that I am told a dozen times a day 

 by different persons that it is a fine day, or a 

 wet day, or that it was cold yesterday, or will 

 rain to-morrow. The boy who opens the door 

 for me as I leave my house gives me his opin- 

 ion as to the weather, the man who runs the 

 elevator downtown does the same thing, the 

 waiter who brings me some luncheon gives me 

 his views on the weather, past, present, and 

 future, and as I ride home the conductor, if he 

 finds time, tells me what kind of weather we are 

 having. At the risk of seeming crusty to a 

 degree I will confess that I care for no man's 



