This Simian World

were built a few years ago. It was a mild afternoon and great crowds of people were out. Sunday afternoon crowds. They were not going anywhere, – they were just strolling up and down, staring at each other, and talking. There were thousands and thousands of them. "Awful, aren't they!" said Potter. I didn't know what he meant. When he added, "Why, these crowds," I turned and asked, "Why, what about them?" I wasn't sure whether he had an idea or a headache. "Other creatures don't do it," he replied, with a discouraged expression. "Are any other beings ever found in such masses, but vermin? Aimless, staring, vacant-minded, – look at them! I can get no sense whatever of individual worth, or of value in men as a race, when I see them like this. It makes one