Woman passionately.

"I will not," said the Philosopher. "In certain ways
sleep is useful. It is an excellent way of listening to an
opera or seeing pictures on a bioscope. As a medium
for day-dreams I know of nothing that can equal it. As
an accomplishment it is graceful, but as a means of spend-
ing a night it is intolerably ridiculous. If you were going
to say anything, my love, please say it now, but you
should always remember to think before you speak. A
woman should be seen seldom but never heard. Quiet-
ness is the beginning of virtue. To be silent is to be beau-
tiful. Stars do not make a noise. Children should al-
ways be in bed. These are serious truths, which cannot
be controverted; therefore, silence is fitting as regards
them."

"Your stirabout is on the hob," said the Thin Woman.
"You can get it for yourself. I would not move the
breadth of my nail if you were dying of hunger. I hope
there's lumps in it. A Leprecaun from Gort na Cloca
Mora was here to-day. They'll give it to you for rob-
bing their pot of gold. You old thief, you! you lob-
eared, crock-kneed fat-eye!"

The Thin Woman whizzed suddenly from where she
stood and leaped into bed. From beneath the blanket
she turned a vivid, furious eye on her husband. She was
trying to give him rheumatism and toothache and lock-
jaw all at once. If she had been satisfied to concentrate