ech's idiosyncrasies, and of
course they tormented Methuselah, who recalled sadly that boys were no
longer what they used to be when he was a boy some centuries previous.
But when he got to be 182 years old Lamech had sowed all his wild oats,
and it was then he married a clever young girl of 98, who bore him a
son whom they called Noah. Now if Methuselah had been worried and
plagued by Lamech, he was more than compensated therefor by this baby
grandson, whom he found to be, aside from all prejudices, the prettiest
and the smartest child he had ever seen. Old father Adam, who was now
turned of his ninth century, tottered over to see the baby, and he,
too, allowed that it was an uncommonly bright child. And dear old
grandma Eve declared that there was an expression about the upper part
of the little Noah's face that reminded her very much of the soft-eyed
boy she lost 800 years ago. And dear old grandma Eve used to rock
little Noah and sing to him, and cry softly to herself all the while.

Now, in good time, Noah grew to lusty youth, and although he was, on
the whole, a joy to his grandsire Methuselah, he developed certain
traits and predilections that occasioned the old gentleman much
uneasiness. At the tender age of 265 Noah exhibited a strange passion
for aquatics, and while it was common for other boys of that time to
divert themselves with the flocks and herds, with slingshots and
spears, with music and dancing, Noah preferred to spend his hours
floating toy-ships in the bayous of the Euphrates. Every day he took
his little shittim-wood boats down to the water, tied strings to them,
and let them float hither and thither on the crystal bosom of the tide.
Naturally enough these practices worried the grandfather mightily.

"May not the crocodiles compass him round about?" groaned Methuselah.
"May not behemoth prevail against him? Or, verily, it may befall that
the waves shall devour him. Woe is me and lamentation unto this
household if destruction come to him through the folly of his fathers!"

So Methuselah's age began to be full of care and trouble, and many a
time he felt weary of living, and sometimes--yes, sometimes--he wished
he were dead. People in those times were not afraid to die; they
believed in the second and better life, because God spoke with them and
told them it should be.

The last century of this good man's sojourn upon earth was
particularly pathetic. His ancestors were all dead; he alon