When the Modoc has led his last warrior to battle
up yonder in his rocky fortress, fired his last shot, and
the grass is growing in the last war-path of those
people, then, and not till then, I may go up where the
solemn trees with their dead limbs stand around,
making faces at something in the centre, pitch a tent
there, and go down in the canon with men, and picks
and shovels, and bars of steel and iron.
At the same time, I am trying to bring myself up to the conviction of the truth, that a great deal of gold is rather to be avoided than sought after. Every day I look around, and see how many thousands there are who have gold and nothing else ; I see the sin there is in it and the getting of it. The ten thousand temptations it brings a man, tied up in the bags along with it, and let out when it is let out, in separable from it. I see that it is sinking my coun try, morally, every day ; and yet with this steady drift of all things toward the one goal, this sailing of every ship in life for the one Golden Gate, barren as it is, forgetting the green isles of palm and the warm winds there ; I say, with all this, it is hard to stand up tall and despise it.
Save money for the children? Bosh! Are you afraid to put them down on the track of life, to take a fair and even start with the rest ? Do you want to start them ahead of nine-tenths of those who have to run the race of life ? Do you think they have not brains or backbone enough to make their way with the rest ? How many of all the millions can start with a fortune ?
