"Why, you believe every one was born free and equal, don't you?" Mrs. Makely asked.
"Oh, yes, I believe that; but"—
"Then why do you object to free and equal competition?"
The young fellow laughed, and said, as be opened the door for us: "Walk right into the parlor, please. Mother will be ready for you in a minute." He added, "I guess she's putting on her best cap, for you, Mr. Homos. It's a great event for her, your coming here. It is for all of us. We're glad to have you."
"And I'm glad to be here," said the Altrurian, as simply as the other. He looked about the best room of a farm-house that had never adapted itself to the tastes or needs of the city boarder, and was as stiffly repellant in its upholstery, and as severe in its decoration as haircloth chairs and dark brown wall-paper of a trellis-pattern, with drab roses, could make it. The windows were shut tight, and our host did not offer to open them. A fly or two crossed the doorway into the hall, but made no attempt to penetrate the interior, where we sat in an obscurity that left the high-hung family photographs on the walls vague and
