with his sincerity. There was, however, about his mouth an expression
of weary resignation as of a man who has fought a long fight without
particularly encouraging results. He was very cordial and wanted to
hear at once just what our scheme was. I told him briefly how our
ultimate hope was to arouse the pioneer spirit in the village and of
the very practical incentive we had given to rouse, first of all, the
ambition of the men to till the soil.
“This prize system,” I explained to him, “is only a quick method of
getting the community started. It gives the men something to work for
that seems to them tangible. A possible five hundred dollar profit is
vague and conditional, while a hundred dollars deposited in the bank is
definite and concrete. They’ll work for that.”
“I don’t know but what you’re right,” he said, as though impressed by
the new idea. “At any rate the experiment is worth fostering. I’ll send
you down all the speakers you’ll listen to.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but right here is where we must use some judgment.
These people are queer, and--well, I’ll tell you frankly they haven’t
much faith in you fellows.”
He didn’t take offense. He just smiled--a weary, patient kind of smile.
“That’s the pity of it,” he said.
“And what’s the reason of it?” I asked directly.