anus
to the catalogue of native diptera, the idea that he was playing with
science, and might be trusted anywhere as a harmless amateur, from whom
no expert could possibly fear any anticipation of his unpublished
discoveries, went beyond anything set down in that book of his which
contained so much of the strainings of his wisdom.

The poor little Scarabee began fidgeting round about this time, and
uttering some half-audible words, apologetical, partly, and involving an
allusion to refreshments. As he spoke, he opened a small cupboard, and
as he did so out bolted an uninvited tenant of the same, long in person,
sable in hue, and swift of movement, on seeing which the Scarabee simply
said, without emotion, blatta, but I, forgetting what was due to good
manners, exclaimed cockroach!

We could not make up our minds to tax the Scarabee's hospitality, already
levied upon by the voracious articulate. So we both alleged a state of
utter repletion, and did not solve the mystery of the contents of the
cupboard,--not too luxurious, it may be conjectured, and yet kindly
offered, so that we felt there was a moist filament of the social
instinct running like a nerve through that exsiccated and almost
anhydrous organism.

We left him with professions of esteem and respect which were real. We
had gone, not to scoff, but very probably to smile, and I will not say we
did not. But the Master was more thoughtful than usual.

--If I had not solemnly dedicated myself to the study of the Order of
Things,--he said,--I do verily believe I would give what remains to me of
life to the investigation of some single point I could utterly eviscerate
and leave finally settled for the instruction and, it may be, the
admiration of all coming time. The keel ploughs ten thousand leagues of
ocean and leaves no trace of its deep-graven furrows. The chisel scars
only a few inches on the face of a rock, but the story it has traced is
read by a hundred generations. The eagle leaves no track of his path, no
memory of the place where he built his nest; but a patient mollusk has
bored a little hole in a marble column of the temple of Serapis, and the
monument of his labor outlasts the altar and the statue of the divinity.

--Whew!--said I to myself,--that sounds a little like what we college
boys used to call a "squirt."--The Master guessed my thought and said,
smiling,

--That is from one of my old lectures. A man's tongue wags along quietly
enoug