in Mr. J. P. Morgan's office, noted in the last chapter.

Maids, lovers, friends, so deep in life,

So deep in love and poet's deeds,

The railroad is a thing disowned,

By night in these clean prairie lands

Without a touch of Spirit-power?

So white and fixed and cool it stands --

A thing from some strange fairy-town,

Unsullied by the winds, as pure