my boy, the reservoir of our country's spiritual and mental strength, the Mary of our nation, must always be the South. Virginia is the mother of Presidents!”
The Captain's oration left him rather breathless. He paused a moment, then asked:
“Peter, have you ever thought that we men of the leisure class owe a debt to the world?”
Peter smiled.
“I know the theory of the leisure class, but I've had very little practical experience with leisure.”
“Well, that's a subject close to my heart. As a scholar and a thinker, I feel that I should give the fruits of my leisure to the world. Er—in fact, Peter, that is why I sent for you to come and see me.”
“Why you sent for me?” Peter was surprised at this turn.
“Precisely. You.”
Here the old gentleman got himself out of his chair, walked across to one of a series of drawers in his bookcases, opened it, and took out a sheaf of papers and a quart bottle. He brought the papers and the bottle back to the table, made room for them, put the papers in a neat pile, and set the bottle at a certain distance from the heap.
“Now, Peter, please hand me one of those wineglasses in the religious section of my library—I always keep two or three glasses among my religious works, in memory of the fact that our Lord and Master wrought a miracle at the feast of Cana, especially to
