THE MOTHER OF COMMON SENSE
to a cafe of his choice. The head-waiter saluted him smiling; the waiters were eager to serve him. But he chose his table with the knowingness and ease of a habitué, and ordered the drinks.
"I suppose," he said, as he laid down his glass, "you are wondering how it came about. I have made a discovery; and what is best, I was the first to profit by it. A disease of the mind is responsible more or less for all our physical ills; egotism is the most pernicious bacillus of the mind; and this bacillus feeds, not only on dreams, ambitions, illusions, but on the general unrest, the social chaos of the times. Is there a cure? There is indeed. At least for the individual. Starve the bacillus first. Find you an anchor, a job. And don't forget, the nearest port in a storm. I found mine in a newspaper office, where I am now writing editorials for the enlightenment and guidance of mankind. My ego? It is dead as far as mankind and I are concerned. But my friends in the office deny that it is; and what is more strange,
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