he was happy again. The sun was still shining, the birds
were flying on every side, and the wide hill-side above
him smiled gaily.

A small, narrow road cut at right angles into his path,
and as he approached this he heard the bustle and move-
ment of a host, the trample of feet, the rolling and creak-
ing of wheels, and the long unwearied drone of voices.
In a few minutes he came abreast of this small road, and
saw an ass and cart piled with pots and pans, and walk-
ing beside this there were two men and a woman. The
men and the woman were talking together loudly, even
fiercely, and the ass was drawing his cart along the road
without requiring assistance or direction. While there
was a road he walked on it: when he might come to a
cross road he would turn to the right: when a man said
"whoh" he would stop: when he said "hike" he would
go backwards, and when he said "yep" he would go on
again. That was life, and if one questioned it, one was
hit with a stick, or a boot, or a lump of rock: if one con-
tinued walking nothing happened, and that was happi-
ness.

The Philosopher saluted this cavalcade.

"God be with you," said he.

"God and Mary be with you," said the first man.

"God, and Mary, and Patrick be with you," said the