for the sad bereavement. He replied:

"The toxin generates the anti-toxin. The end lies
concealed in the beginning. All bodies grow around a
skeleton. Life is a petticoat about death. I will not go
to bed."

CHAPTER III

ON the day following this melancholy occurrence Mee-
hawl MacMurrachu, a small farmer in the neighbour-
hood, came through the pine trees with tangled brows.
At the door of the little house he said, "God be with all
here," and marched in.

The Philosopher removed his pipe from his lips--
"God be with yourself," said he, and he replaced his
pipe.

Meehawl MacMurrachu crooked his thumb at space-
"Where is the other one?" said he.

"Ah!" said the Philosopher.

"He might be outside, maybe?"

"He might, indeed," said the Philosopher gravely.

"Well, it doesn't matter," said the visitor, "for you
have enough knowledge by yourself to stock a shop. The