"Pretty little Miss, don't stand on beauty,
"That's a flower that must soon decay,
Reddest rose in yonder's garden,
"Half an hour will fade away.
No, no, no, sir, no; all the answer she made was no."
Milford was called upon for a story. He refused, but the girl's eyes implored him, and he told a story of heroism in a blizzard. The Professor was then called out for a speech. The Liberty of the American was his theme; the glory of every man having a castle, his climax. Milford smiled to think of the road leading from the Professor's castle, of the portcullis that had come near falling on him. He saw the mistress of the castle standing with her hands on her hips.
"He has so many fine words," said Gunhild. "Why don't they send him to the Congress?"
"Because they've got too many fine words there already, I guess," Milford answered.
"But is he not a very smart man?"
"Oh, yes, smart enough, I guess. That's what's the matter with him—too smart."
"But how can a man be too smart?"
"I give it up. But it seems as if it takes a fool to make a success of life; the hogs of the business world root up money."
"I do not understand. You are making some fun of me."
"No, I'm giving it to you straight. The successful business man wears bristles on his back."