Nowhere In This Country, From

Before The Birth Of The New Woman The Country Was Not An Intellectual Desert, As She Is Apt To Suppose. There Were Teachers Of Thehighest Grade, And Libraries, And Countless Circles In Our Towns And Villages Of Scholarly, Leisurely Folk, Who Loved Books, And Music, And Nature, And Lived Much Apart With Them. The Mad Craze For Money, Which Clutches At Our Souls To-day As La Grippe Does At Our Bodies, Was Hardly Known Then.

Reform Is Born Of Need, Not Pity.

The Only Hero Known To My Childhood Was Henry Clay.

But Remember, I Am No Politician, And No Seer Into Souls.

For, After All, Put It As We May To Ourselves, We Are All Of Us From Birth To Death Guests At A Table Which We Did Not Spread. The Sun, The Earth, Love, Friends, Our Very Breath Are Parts Of The Banquet.... Shall We Think Of The Day As A Chance To Come Nearer To Our Host, And To Find Out Something Of Him Who Has Fed Us So Long?