"I never said anything about evolution," replied Gud. "As a matter of fact, I do not take much stock in it, and many of my friends do not believe in it at all; besides, it is liable to get out of hand and produce something entirely different from one's designs. So if you will tell me what more you want I will make it outright, like I did this world."
"I only want," said the soul, "to see this beautiful place inhabited by happy, rational beings among whom there will be no inequality."
"That means that they must all be exactly alike as atoms of hydrogen."
"Well—yes," admitted the soul rather grudgingly. "I suppose it does, if you put it that way, but it sounds much nicer merely to speak of equality."
"Put it any way you like, I want to get the job done and get back to my dog. He is faithful enough, but I don't like to put too much strain on fidelity. Now, as I get it, you want this world peopled with rational beings that are all alike. I am ready to make them, only what kind do you want—something like yourself?"
"No! no! not like me, for I am a weak and selfish fence-straddler. Moreover, I am too modest to be used as a prototype for the members of a perfect world."
"Worse than that, you are a ghost and immaterial and invisible to animal eyes. If I filled the world with creatures like you, the animals might walk right through them—No, we want material beings."
"Then materialize me," cried the soul in sudden eagerness.
"Hold on, if I materialize you in your present immaterial likeness, then all the beings I am to make for this world would have to be like you or you would be the exception and spoil the equality."
"That is so," admitted the soul.