ubt: happily I am not. What has this to do with your defence of
buffoonery, and apotheosis of clowns and pantomimes?"

"A pantomime is a very good thing in its way. But that is your
illustration; I would rather say opera bouffe, which is probably the
truest copy of Life--if we were limited to one kind. But we are not: I
tell you, we must have all sorts. There is tragedy in Life, and
comedy--that more especially; a little of the other goes a long way. But
they are always mixed--not kept apart, and one alone taken in large and
frequent doses, after your fashion. Shakespeare understood his business
pretty well; though, if I had been he, I would have put in more of those
light and graceful touches which hit us where we live, and make the
whole world kin."

"Like the Dromios, or the Carriers in Henry Fourth."

"Or the Gravediggers; they are more to your purpose. I want you to see
that Humor is the general solvent and reconciler, the key that opens
most locks: a feeling for it, well developed, would be money in your
pocket. Things don't go to suit you, and you think your powers of the
air are frowning, the universe a vault, and the canopy a funeral pall:
perhaps the powers are only laughing at you, and want you to smile with
them. If you could do that, it would let in light on your darkness. Any
situation, properly viewed, has its amusing elements: if you ignore
them, you fail to understand the whole. What did Heine say about his
irregular Latin nouns? That his knowledge of them, in many a gloomy
hour, supplied much inward consolation and delight. You ought to read
him more, Jim."

"And Josh Billings, and Bill Nye. Well, that's enough of your wisdom for
to-night. We must arrange for to-morrow. Are you up to another
scramble?"

"Not like to-day's. Let's take in some decent scenery along with the
trout."

"There is a wild gorge ten miles off, with a brook in it. We can take
Hodge's mare, put up at a house, and work down the ravine. It's not so
bad as the last place, nor so good for fish." I agreed, and we went to
bed.

You may think I am humoring Hartman too much, and letting him shirk the
subject. But I have a week--more if necessary--and I don't want to be
too hard on him. He'll thaw out by degrees: so long as he doesn't blame
Clarice, it is all right. He has got my idea about the way to discover
Truth now, and it will work in his brain, and soften him. I know Jim: he
never seems to take hold at first, but he comes r