the
king. 'Well, sir,' says I, 'since you're always a-looking--leastways in
winter--through the bars of grates, it's possible you've seen a bit
yourself of human nature. Don't it fidget you?' 'Why,' says he, 'Phil,'
a-stretching out his arms for a great yawn so suddenly as very nigh to
set my coat on fire with his red fingers, 'I have been tolerably
patient, haven't I?' 'If it's sarcasm you mean,' says I, a little
nettled, 'I must say, it's a figure of speech I don't approve of.'

"'I beg your pardon, sir,' he says, 'and here's an answer to your
question. It's my opinion, Mr. Spruce, that as a cinder you will be
agreeably surprised. I do see people sitting around me, now and then,
whom I can't altogether get my coals to blaze for cheerfully. They sit
and talk disparagement about all manner of folks their neighbors; they
have a cupboard in their hearts for hoarding up the grievances they
spend their lives in searching for; they hate the world, and could make
scandal out of millstones, but if one hints that they are erring, they
are up in arms, and don't approve of sarcasm.' 'Sir,' says I, 'you are
personal.' 'By no means, Mr. Spruce; you, and a number like you, are
good people in the main, and deeply to be pitied for your foolish
blunder. You're a philosopher, Phil,' he says, 'and did you never hear
that your "I" is the only thing certainly existent, and that the world
without may be a shadow or mere part of you, or, if external, of no
certain form or tint, having the color of the medium through which you
view it--your own nature.' Here I saw occasion for a joke. 'Sir,' I
says, 'if my own "I" is the only thing certainly existing, then the
external world is all my eye, which proves what I propounded.' His
flames went dead all of a sudden, and he looked black from top to toe.
'I am sure I beg your pardon, sir,' says I, 'excuse my liberty.'

"'He took no verbal notice of what I had said, but gave a tremendous
shiver, and his flames began to play again. 'I'm of a warm and cheerful
turn of mind,' says he, 'and I must say, that whenever I look out upon
the men and women in the world, I see them warm and cheerful.' 'That's
nothing wonderful,' said I; 'it's just because you see them sitting
round your blaze.' 'Well,' says he, 'Mr. Spruce, I'm very glad you own
so much; for my opinion is, that if you had shone out cheerfully when
you were in the world, and warmed the folks that came within your
influence--if you had put a littl