“And I,” said Lizzette, “haf found zat friendship haf no price.”
“While I,” asserted Gilbert, “have found a boy’s back can ache a great deal harder at work than at play.”
“Now, Margaret,” asked Elsie, “how are you going to philosophize over the want of eggs and a boy’s back? These incorrigible facts take the poetry out of our plan, I am afraid.”
“Not in the least. It is the very thing we are endeavoring to do, make our philosophy fit our material wants. It may be that the world wouldn’t call our reasoning by so dignified a name; but we don’t care for that. This is our world, and into it we are striving to bring as much of both earthly and divine sustenance as will best fit us to receive the greatest amount of happiness. Therefore, since eggs will contribute to the mental balance and physical well-being of Elsie, to say nothing of the rest of us, we must look up some information regarding henneries. The garden planted, Gilbert must exercise his ingenuity in building one, while the rest of us——”
“Devise some means of making a hen lay two eggs a day,” interposed Elsie.
“Elsie, I am ashamed of you,” exclaimed Margaret with forced severity. “To think that already you develop the greed of a monopolist.”
“Well, what is Eutopia good for, if it doesn’t make all doors swing back with the ‘open sesame’ of good wishes?”
“Good to hope for,” said Gilbert dryly.
“And to work for,” added Margaret quietly.
“And ze hope and ze work keep ze world moving. But ze boy’s back, Mees Margaret, zat is a question not yet answered.”