“Don’t tell me!” cried Mr. Smalley.  “I don’t want you to tell me anything!  What do you know about the English language, anyhow?  ‘Gratz!’ That is a pretty name for a man who pretends to have a right to say how the English language shall be spelled!  Don’t I know your history, Mr. Gratz?  Don’t I know you had your name changed from Gratzensteinburgher?  And you pretend to be worried because our President and the most talented men in the country want to drop a few useless letters out of a measly three hundred words!  I tell you these changes in spelling should have been made long ago.  Long ago.  This is the business man’s age, Mr. Gratz-and-the-rest-of-it.  Yes, sir!  And you, as a business man, should be proud of this concession made by our most noted scholars to the needs of the business man.”

“Look at ’em!” sneered Mr. Gratz, patting the list of three hundred revised words with his finger, and shoving the newspaper under Mr. Smalley’s nose.  “Poor bob-tailed, one-eyed mongrels!  Progress!  It is anarchy—­impudence—­Look at this—­’t-h-r-u!’ What kind of a word is that?  ‘T-h-o!’ What kind of a thing is that?  What in the world is a ‘s-i-t-h-e,’ I would like to know?”

Mr. Smalley had not been sufficiently interested in the matter of new spelling to save his morning paper.  He had not even read through the list of three hundred words.  But he was interested now.  The new spelling had become the thing most dear to his heart, and he pulled the paper from Mr. Gratz’s hand and slapped the list of words warmly.

“Progress!  Yes, progress!  That is the word.  And economy!” he cried.  “That is the true American spirit!  That is what appeals to the man who is not a fossil!” This was a delicate compliment to Mr. Gratz, but Mr. Gratz was so used to receiving compliments when Mr. Smalley was talking to him that he did not blush with pleasure.  He merely got red in the face.  “Think of the advantage of saving one letter in every word that is written in every business office in America?” continued Mr. Smalley excitedly.  “The ink saved by this company alone by dropping those letters will amount to a thousand dollars a year.  And in the whole correspondence of the nation it will amount to millions!  Millions of dollars, in ink alone, to say nothing of the time saved!” He got out of his chair and began to walk up and down the office, waving his arms.  It helped him to get hot, and he liked to get hot when Mr. Gratz called.  It was the only time he indulged himself.  So he always got as hot as he could while he had the chance.

“Yes, sir!” he shouted, while Mr. Gratz sat shrunken down into his chair and watched him with a teasing smile.  “And I will tell you something more.  The policy of this company is to be economical.  Yes, sir!  And this company is going to adopt the simplified spelling!  Going to adopt it right now!  In spite of all the old-fogyism in the world!—­Miss Merrill!”