My husband is going to take me and another girl to this big night on the town with hamburgers at some little place and a movie. The other girl turns out to be Negro. I am upset, but try to be nice. It turns out as we are leaving that she doesn't have any shoes on, so I go to try to find some for her. As I look for some, she seems to become more ragged and poverty-stricken (at first she had on a quite fancy evening gown). I look for clothes for her too (she also becomes younger and younger). Somehow we never go. Then it is a day, we are going into town. There is a grocery, and a man is arranging some candy he has just gotten. He mumbles something about, "According to Hume...." and I figure he is a former professor of philosophy who has gotten trapped in this little town with nothing to do but be a grocer. He tells us that this is the last shipment of candy from the candy factories. I wonder why, if there is still such good shipping and facilities, someone isn't busy making more candy instead of just sitting around doing nothing.