“I see that the cause of Education has received theprincely gift of more than fifty millions of dollars，” said I.
I was gleaning the stray items from the evening paperswhile Jeff Peters packed his briar pipe with plug cut.
“Which same，” said Jeff， “calls for a new deck， and arecitation by the entire class in philanthromathematics.”
“Is that an allusion？” I asked.
“It is，” said Jeff. “I never told you about the time whenme and Andy Tucker was philanthropists， did I？ It waseight years ago in Arizona. Andy and me was out in theGila mountains with a two-horse wagon prospecting forsilver. We struck it， and sold out to parties in Tucson for25，000. They paid our check at the bank in silver—athousand dollars in a sack. We loaded it in our wagonand drove east a hundred miles before we recovered ourpresence of intellect. Twenty-five thousand dollars doesn’tsound like so much when you’re reading the annual reportof the Pennsylvania Railroad or listening to an actortalking about his salary； but when you can raise up a wagonsheet and kick around your bootheel and hear every oneof ’em ring against another it makes you feel like you was anight-and-day bank with the clock striking twelve.
“The third day out we drove into one of the most speciousand tidy little towns that Nature or Rand and McNally everturned out. It was in the foothills， and mitigated with treesand flowers and about 2，000 head of cordial and dilatoryinhabitants. The town seemed to be called Floresville， andNature had not contaminated it with many railroads， fleasor Eastern tourists.
“Me and Andy deposited our money to the credit ofPeters and Tucker in the Esperanza Savings Bank， and gotrooms at the Skyview Hotel. After supper we lit up， andsat out on the gallery and smoked. Then was when thephilanthropy idea struck me. I suppose every grafter getsit sometime.
“When a man swindles the public out of a certainamount he begins to get scared and wants to return partof it. And if you’ll watch close and notice the way hischarity runs you’ll see that he tries to restore it to thesame people he got it from. As a hydrostatical case， take，let’s say， A. A made his millions selling oil to poor studentswho sit up nights studying political economy and methodsfor regulating the trusts. So， back to the universities andcolleges goes his conscience dollars.
“There’s B got his from the common laboring man thatworks with his hands and tools. How’s he to get some ofthe remorse fund back into their overalls？
“‘Aha！’ says B， ‘I’ll do it in the name of Education. I’veskinned the laboring man，’ says he to himself， ‘but， accordingto the old proverb， “Charity covers a multitude of skins.”’
“So he puts up eighty million dollars’ worth of libraries；and the boys with the dinner pail that builds ’em gets thebenefit.
“‘Where’s the books？’ asks the reading public.
“‘I dinna ken，’ says B. ‘I offered ye libraries； and therethey are. I suppose if I’d given ye preferred steel trust stockinstead ye’d have wanted the water in it set out in cut glassdecanters. Hoot， for ye！’
“But， as I said， the owning of so much money wasbeginning to give me philanthropitis. It was the first timeme and Andy had ever made a pile big enough to make usstop and think how we got it.
“‘Andy，’ says I， ‘we’re wealthy—not beyond the dreamsof average； but in our humble way we are comparatively asrich as Greasers. I feel as if I’d like to do something for aswell as to humanity.’
“‘I was thinking the same thing， Jeff，’ says he. ‘We’vebeen gouging the public for a long time with all kinds oflittle schemes from selling self-igniting celluloid collars toflooding Georgia with Hoke Smith presidential campaignbuttons. I’d like， myself， to hedge a bet or two in thegraft game if I could do it without actually banging thecymbalines in the Salvation Army or teaching a bible classby the Bertillon system.
“‘What’ll we do？’ says Andy. ‘Give free grub to the pooror send a couple of thousand to George Cortelyou？’
“‘Neither，’ says I. ‘We’ve got too much money to beimplicated in plain charity； and we haven’t got enough tomake restitution. So， we’ll look about for something that’sabout half way between the two.’
“The next day in walking around Floresville we seeon a hill a big red brick building that appears to bedisinhabited. The citizens speak up and tell us that itwas begun for a residence several years before by a mineowner. After running up the house he finds he only had2.80 left to furnish it with， so he invests that in whiskeyand jumps off the roof on a spot where he now requiescatsin pieces.
“As soon as me and Andy saw that building the sameidea struck both of us. We would fix it up with lights andpen wipers and professors， and put an iron dog and statuesof Hercules and Father John on the lawn， and start one ofthe finest free educational institutions in the world rightthere.
“So we talks it over to the prominent citizens of Floresville，who falls in fine with the idea. They give a banquet in theengine house to us， and we make our bow for the first timeas benefactors to the cause of progress and enlightenment.
Andy makes an hour-and-a-half speech on the subject ofirrigation in Lower Egypt， and we have a moral tune onthe phonograph and pineapple sherbert.
“Andy and me didn’t lose any time in philanthropping.
We put every man in town that could tell a hammerfrom a step ladder to work on the building， dividing it upinto class rooms and lecture halls. We wire to Frisco fora car load of desks， footballs， arithmetics， penholders，dictionaries， chairs for the professors， slates， skeletons，sponges， twenty-seven cravenetted gowns and caps forthe senior class， and an open order for all the truck thatgoes with a first-class university. I took it on myself to puta campus and a curriculum on the list； but the telegraphoperator must have got the words wrong， being anignorant man， for when the goods come we found a can ofpeas and a curry-comb among ’em.