But something had to be done. He sat down and wrote to her with a
trembling hand:

DEAR MYRA,--Though I am impatient to see you, I
must yet wait a little while. Bear with me. You will
understand later.

Yours,
JOE.

And then she replied:

DEAR JOE,--Can't I help you?
MYRA.

He had to fight a whole afternoon before he replied:

Not yet--later.
JOE.

And back he went into the whirlwind of the world-vision, a stupendous
force upsetting, up-rooting, overturning, demolishing, almost erasing
and contradicting everything that Joe had taken for granted, and in the
wake of the destruction, rising and ever rising, a new creation, the
vision of a new world.

He had taken so much for granted. He had taken for granted that he lived
in a democracy--that the Civil War had once for all made America a free
nation--a nation of opportunity, riches, and happiness for all. Not so.
Literally millions were living in abject poverty, slaves to their