cast among the working classes. I have every respect for the dignity of labor. I don’t look down on you. In Heaven’s sight all men are equal—landlords and gentlemen and day laborers and plumbers and senators and bootleggers and authors and—” “That sounds fine in theory, Mr.—Mr. Case, is it?” boomed Joshua Q. “But it don’t work out always in real life. Not that I look down on a man just because he’s got to run an inn or a boarding house to make a living. Nor yet[80] I don’t really look down on day laborers. Nor yet on plumbers. Not even on authors—when they keep their place. But what’s it to profit those of us who’ve made good and won our way to the leisure classes, as you might say? What’s it to profit us if we’re to be put on a level with folks who get paid for serving us? Money’s got to count for something, hasn’t it? If a man’s got the brain and the genius and the push to pile up a fortune, don’t he deserve to stand a notch higher than the boob who ain’t—who hasn’t? Don’t he? Position means something. It—” [80] “And family, too!” chimed in Mrs. Mosely, with much elegance of diction. “I always tell Mr. M. that family counts every bit as much as money, or it ought to. Even in these democratic days. I believe in family. I don’t boast of it. But I believe in it. While I don’t brag about my grandfather being the first Governor of—” “Grandfathers!” sighed Willis Chase, ecstatically. “Now you’ve touched my own hobby, Mrs.—Mrs. Mousely. I—” “Mosely,” corrected Joshua Q., with much dignity. “And—” “To be sure,” apologized Chase, meekly. “My mistake. But I murmur ‘Amen!’ to all you[81] say about family and grandfathers. I even go a step beyond. I even believe in pride of great-grandfathers.” [81] “Why—why, cert’nly,” assented Mrs. Mosely, albeit with a shade less assurance. “Of course. And—” “My own great-grandfather,” expounded Willis, unctuously, “my own great-grandfather, Colonel Weilguse Chase, was the first white man to be hanged in New Jersey. Not that I brag unduly of it. Yet it is sweet to remember, in this age of so-called equality.... Landlord, these trout are probably more or less fit to eat. But my doctor forbids me to guzzle fish. I wonder if I might trouble you to order a little fried tripe for me? I am willing to pay extra for it, of course. Nothing sets off a dinner like a side dish of fried tripe. Or, still better, a
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