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Phillips, David Graham, 1867-1911

"The Conflict"


My brother-in-law was paralyzed by an accident at the rolling
mill where he worked. My sister takes care of both of them--and
her two boys--and of me--keeps the house in band-box order,
manages a big garden that gives us most of what we eat--and has
time to listen to the woes of all the neighbors and to give them
the best advice I ever heard.''
``How CAN she?'' cried Jane. ``Why, the day isn't long enough.''
Dorn laughed. ``You'll never realize how much time there is in a
day, Miss Jane Hastings, until you try to make use of it all.
It's very interesting--how much there is in a minute and in a
dollar if you're intelligent about them.''
Jane looked at him in undisguised wonder and admiration. ``You
don't know what a pleasure it is,'' she said, ``to meet anyone
whose sentences you couldn't finish for him before he's a quarter
the way through them.''
Victor threw back his head and laughed--a boyish outburst that
would have seemed boorish in another, but came as naturally from
him as song from a bird. ``You mean Davy Hull,'' said he.
Jane felt herself coloring even more. ``I didn't mean him
especially,'' replied she. ``But he's a good example.''
``The best I know,'' declared Victor. ``You see, the trouble
with Davy is that he is one kind of a person, wants to be another
kind, thinks he ought to be a third kind, and believes he fools
people into thinking he is still a fourth kind.''
Jane reflected on this, smiled understandingly.


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