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Bachofen, Das Mutterrecht, Stuttgart, 1861; Lewis H. Morgan, Ancient Society, or Researches in the Lines of Human Progress from Savagery through Barbarism to Civilization, New York, 1877; J.F. MacLennan, Studies in Ancient History, 1st series, new edition, 1886; 2nd series, 1896; L. Fison and A.W. Howitt, Kamilaroi and Kurnai, Melbourne.
As he said this he motioned them out of the room. As he was leaving, Craigin called him back. "I want to see Maclennan," he said gruffly. "Wait till to-morrow, Mr. Craigin," replied the doctor, in soothing tones. "I want to see him now." The doctor called Mr. Maclennan back. "Maclennan, I want to say there's the whitest man in these mountains. I was a blank, blank fool.
"You had a most difficult situation to deal with and you handled it like a general." "I quite agree with you," said Maclennan, shaking Dr. Bailey warmly by the hand. "The measures were somewhat drastic, but something had to be done. Go right on, Doctor. When Craigin is on his feet again we'll send him out." "Mr. Craigin will be quite fit to work in a day or so.
Without a word the doctor closed the door upon Maclennan, then went to the bedside. "Craigin, you are a man. I'd be glad to call you my friend." That was all. The two men shook hands and the doctor passed out, leaving Craigin more at peace with himself and with the world than he had been for some days.
"Into that hole," he continued, pointing to where the dump ended abruptly in the swamp, "I can't tell you how many millions of carloads have been dumped. I used to brag that I was never beaten in my life, but that hole " "Maclennan, that hole has got to be filled up, bridged, or trestled, and we can't wait too long, either."
Maclennan stood in amazement looking from Haines to the General Manager. "Dr. Bailey? You mean Bailey from No. 1? What has he got to do with it? And how did Craigin come to allow him?" "Ask Craigin," replied Haines. "What have you got in there, Doctor?" asked Mr. Fahey. "Diphtheria patients." "How many?" "Well, we began with eight three days ago and we've ten to-day."
He's got the cook, dead sure." The smile didn't help Maclennan's temper. He opened the office door and passed into Craigin's private room at the back. Here he found Dr. Bailey in charge. As he opened the door the doctor put up his hand for silence and backed him out into the office. "Excuse me, Mr. Maclennan," he said, "he's asleep and must not be disturbed."
The doctor's air was so entirely respectful and at the same time so masterful that Maclennan found himself walking meekly toward the grub-house behind the doctor, with Fahey, the smile on his face broader than ever, bringing up the rear. Maclennan caught the smile, but in the face of the doctor's quiet, respectful manner he found it difficult to rouse himself to wrath. He took refuge in bluster.
I never think of giving a program without going through it for criticism. The office of critic is a very difficult one, especially if you are to criticize some one you are fond of. Mr. Maclennan and I try to do it for each other. I assure you it is no easy task to sing a program knowing some one is listening who will not spare you, and will tell you all your faults.
"That is all, gentlemen," said the doctor, as he concluded his tale; "I did what I considered was right. Prompt action was necessary. I may have been mistaken, but I think not." "Mistaken!" cried Fahey, with a great oath. "I tell you, Maclennan, we've had a close shave.
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