Did it? I dared not be sure. Past the rear gardens of the pleasant houses a clear river ran sweetly, just as Sir Thomas More had said, and through the wide street passed comely, alert citizens, full of grave, friendly cheer. But might there not be slums and strikers round the corner? The power of faith was blurred in me that night.
Just then a man who carried a kit of carpenters’ tools, whistling as he walked, looked up and waved his cap. It was young Stanton of our economics department. He was always tinkering at his house, but it looked odd to see him carry a kit on the public way.
“Good morning. Isn’t Utopia the greatest ever?” he cried. “My lectures are over; I’m off to help with those new houses around the bend.”
“Is this real Utopia?” I asked eagerly.
He nodded.
“I perceive, however, that the inhabitants have not changed their nature,” he laughed. “You have your old skeptical mind.”
“If it’s Utopia,” I retorted, “why in the name of common sense are you still lecturing on economics?”
“The wonder is how I lectured on it in the old days,” he replied. “I was like a professor of harmony, with nothing to expound but discords. Now we have a symphonic whole to study and even fuller harmonies to evolve. The department is the largest in the college.”
“Have pity on my skeptical mind,” I pleaded. “Give me a sign that Utopia is here.”
He motioned to the passing people.