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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Ah, that reminds me, Mr. Homos," the unscrupulous woman began on him at once. "We want to interest you in a little movement we're getting up for the Union Chapel in the village. You know it's the church where all the different sects have their services; alternately.
I prepared myself as well as I could for another affront, though I shuddered when the banker hardily called out: "Don't hesitate to say anything you wish, Mr. Homos. I, for one, should like to hear you express yourself fully." It was always the unexpected, certainly, that happened from the Altrurian.
Homos is so dreadfully reticent about his own country, and I am so curious to hear of it at first hands, that I consider it justifiable to use any means to make him open up about it." "There is no offence," the Altrurian answered for himself, "in what Mr. Makely says, though, from the Altrurian point of view, there is a good deal of error.
"Nobody can imagine the first Christians, and do you think we can imagine anything like them in our own day?" "But Mrs. Strange she imagines us, you say?" "She thinks she does; but I am afraid she only thinks so, and I know her better than you do, Mr. Homos.
But they controlled this if they had it, and I could see, as the light fell upon his face from a spray of electrics on the nearest pillar, that sort of liking kindle in theirs which I had felt myself at first sight of him. I said, "Gentlemen, I wish to introduce my friend, Mr. Homos," and then I presented them severally to him by name. We all sat down, and I explained: "Mr. Homos is from Altruria.
After it was all done we neither of us liked it, and when he died I felt as if he had left me in a tomb here." "Eveleth," said her mother, "you ought not to speak so before Mr. Homos. He will not know what to think of you, and he will go back to Altruria with a very wrong idea of American women." At this protest, Mrs. Strange seemed to recover herself a little.
Makely, "and I think it's a great shame that we can't have some of them in a refined form in society. I once went to a sugar-party up in New Hampshire when I was a girl, and I never enjoyed myself so much in my life. I should like to make up a party to go to one somewhere in the Catskills in March. Will you all go? It would be something to show Mr. Homos.
This has happened through the general decay of snobbishness among us, perhaps. It is certain that there is no longer the passion for a knowledge of the rich, and the smart, which made us ridiculous to Mr. Homos.
But she merely said, "Oh!" and then she seemed to recollect herself, and frowning to a very gentle-looking old man to come forward, she ignored my husband in presenting me. "Mr. Thrall, Mrs. She hesitated for my name, and I supplied it, "Homos," and as the old man had put out his hand in a kindly way I took it.
We should regard that as the worst incivism." "What is incivism?" I interpreted, "Bad citizenship." "Well, then, if you will excuse me, Mr. Homos," she said, "I think that is simply impossible. There must be rich and there must be poor. There always have been, and there always will be. That woman said it as well as anybody. Didn't Christ Himself say, 'The poor ye have always with you'?"
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