ught that would stop my mouth in two senses. But he was mistaken.

--To be sure I will,--said I.---First, I like its mechanical consistency;
brittle externally,--that is for the teeth, which want resistance to be
overcome; soft, spongy, well tempered and flavored internally, that is
for the organ of taste; wholesome, nutritious,--that is for the internal
surfaces and the system generally.

--Good,--said the Master, and laughed a hearty terrestrial laugh.

I hope he will carry that faculty of an honest laugh with him wherever he
goes,--why shouldn't he? The "order of things," as he calls it, from
which hilarity was excluded, would be crippled and one-sided enough. I
don't believe the human gamut will be cheated of a single note after men
have done breathing this fatal atmospheric mixture and die into the ether
of immortality!

I did n't say all that; if I had said it, it would have brought a pellet
from the popgun, I feel quite certain.

The Master went on after he had had out his laugh.--There is one thing I
am His Imperial Majesty about, and that is my likes and dislikes. What
if I do like your verses,--you can't help yourself. I don't doubt
somebody or other hates 'em and hates you and everything you do, or ever
did, or ever can do. He is all right; there is nothing you or I like
that somebody does n't hate. Was there ever anything wholesome that was
not poison to somebody? If you hate honey or cheese, or the products of
the dairy,--I know a family a good many of whose members can't touch
milk, butter, cheese, and the like, why, say so, but don't find fault
with the bees and the cows. Some are afraid of roses, and I have known
those who thought a pond-lily a disagreeable neighbor. That Boy will
give you the metaphysics of likes and dislikes. Look here,--you young
philosopher over there,--do you like candy?

That Boy.---You bet! Give me a stick and see if I don't.

And can you tell me why you like candy?

That Boy.--Because I do.

--There, now, that is the whole matter in a nutshell. Why do your teeth
like crackling crust, and your organs of taste like spongy crumb, and
your digestive contrivances take kindly to bread rather than toadstools--

That Boy (thinking he was still being catechised).--Because they do.

Whereupon the Landlady said, Sh! and the Young Girl laughed, and the Lady
smiled; and Dr. Ben Franklin kicked him, moderately, under the table, and
the Astronomer looked up at the ceiling