He's the raw material of a great artist and a good citizen.

All he wants is somebody to take him in hand and keep him from makin' an ass of himself and kickin' over the traces generally, and ridin' two or three horses bareback at once." "It seems a simple problem, though the metaphor is rather complicated," said March.

"But talk to Miss Leighton about it.

I haven't given Beaton the grand bounce." He began to turn over the manuscripts on his table, and Fulkerson went away.

But March found himself thinking of the matter from time to time during the day, and he spoke to his wife about it when he went home.