Page:My Dear Cornelia (1924).pdf/211

 tolic Church, in the communion of saints—"

"His Excellency, for example, among them?" suggested Willys, saucily enough.

"Really, Mr. Willys!" said Cornelia. I felt the air cold on my cheek. I doubt if it lowered the temperature of Willys. He merely said, "I am a realist," and lapsed again.

Cornelia repeated, "I believe in the Apostolic Church—," and this time I interrupted.

"The average American," I said, "does not—at least, he does not believe in it with any such fullness of faith as he accords to baseball."

"The tone of this conversation is becoming decidedly distasteful to me," said Cornelia. She picked up a copy of Vogue and buried herself in it, pretending to lose all her interest in our discussion.

"I'm sorry," I said, "but I too, like Willys, am a realist. I have learned much from the master realists of my time—I mean the salesmen. I have learned, when I wish to make a religious appeal to man, to appeal to him on the basis of the things in which he really believes. If a man's real belief is small and mean, you've got to begin mean and small. If he believes only in his pocketbook, I must appeal to his pocketbook. If he