"By Jove! I don't wonder," said French.
"Nor do I."
"But look here, Brown," said French, "you don't mean to tell me,—I assure you I don't wish to be rude,—but you don't mean to tell me that you have come here, a man of your education and snap—"
"Thank you," said Brown.
"To teach a lot of Galician children."
"Well," said Brown, "I admit I have come partially for my health. You see, I am constitutionally inclined—"
"Oh, come now," said French, "as my friend Kalman would remark, cut it out."
"Partially for my health, and partially for the good of the country. These people here exist as an undigested foreign mass. They must be digested and absorbed into the body politic. They must be taught our ways of thinking and living, or it will be a mighty bad thing for us in Western Canada. Do you know, there are over twenty-five thousand of them already in this country?"
"Oh, that's all right," said French, "but they'll learn our ways fast enough. And as for teaching their children, pardon me, but it seems to me you are too good a man to waste in that sort of thing. Why, bless my soul, you can get a girl for fifty dollars a month who would teach them fast enough. But you—now you could do big things in this country, and there are going to be big things doing here in a year or two."
"What things?" said Brown with evident interest.