“Ah, that's the trouble,” said I, “that's the trouble. The proletariat doesn't appreciate what we are trying to do for them! They don't want your reading-rooms nor my Emerson and cucumbers. The seat of the difficulty seems to be that what seems wealth to us isn't necessarily wealth for the other fellow.”
I cannot tell with what delight we fenced our way through this foolery (which was not all foolery, either). I never met a man more quickly responsive than Mr. Vedder. But he now paused for some moments, evidently ruminating.
“Well, David,” he said seriously, “what are we going to do about this obstreperous other fellow?”
“Why not try the experiment,” I suggested, “of giving him what he considers wealth, instead of what you consider wealth?”
“But what does he consider wealth?”
“Equality,” said I.
Mr. Vedder threw up his hands.
“So you're a Socialist, too!”
“That,” I said, “is another story.”
“Well, supposing we did or could give him this equality you speak of—what would become of us? What would we get out of it?”