ot? One must face that too, after all. Why should
not a thing be true and false also? What harm in a thing's being false?
What necessity for it to be true? True? What is truth? Why should a
thing be the worse for being illogical? Why should there be any logic at
all? Did I ever see a little beast flying about with "Logic" labelled on
its back? What do I know of it, but as a sensation of my own mind--if I
have any? What proof is that that I am to obey it, and not it me? If a
flea bites me I get rid of that sensation; and if logic bothers me, I'll
get rid of that too. Phantasms must be taught to vanish courteously.
One's only hope of comfort lies in kicking feebly against the tyranny
of one's own boring notions and sensations--every philosopher
confesses that--and what god is logic, pray, that it is to be the sole
exception?.... What, old lady? I give you fair warning, you must choose
this day, like any nun, between the ties of family and those of duty.'

Bran seized him by the skirt, and pulled him down towards the puppies;
took up one of the puppies and lifted it towards him; and then repeated
the action with another.

'You unconscionable old brute! You don't actually dare to expect the to
carry your puppies for you?' and he turned to go.

Bran sat down on her tail and began howling.

'Farewell, old dog! you have been a pleasant dream after all.... But if
you will go the way of all phantasms.'.... And he walked away.

Bran ran with him, leaping and barking; then recollected her family and
ran back; tried to bring them, one by one, in her mouth, and then to
bring them all at once; and failing sat down and howled.

'Come, Bran! Come, old girl!'

She raced halfway up to him; then halfway back again to the puppies;
then towards him again: and then suddenly gave it up, and dropping
her tail, walked slowly back to the blind suppliants, with a deep
reproachful growl.

'* * *!' said Raphael with a mighty oath; 'you are right after all! Here
are nine things come into the world, phantasms or not, there it is; I
can't deny it. They are something, and you are something, old dog; or at
least like enough to something to do instead of it; and you are not I,
and as good as I, and they too, for aught I know, and have as good a
right to live as I; and by the seven planets and all the rest of it,
I'll carry them!'

And he went back, tied up the puppies in his blanket, and set forth,
Bran barking, squeaking, wagging, leaping, run