The Thin Woman said she was
desperately grieved by the whole unpleasant transaction, and that
all her sympathies were with Gort na Cloca Mora, but that she must
disassociate herself from any responsibility in the matter as it was her
husband who was the culpable person, and that she had no control over
his mental processes, which, she concluded, was one of the seven curious
things in the world.

As her husband was away in a distant part of the wood nothing further
could be done at that time, so the Leprecaun returned again to his
fellows without any good news, but he promised to come back early on the
following day. When the Philosopher come home late that night the Thin
Woman was waiting up for him.

"Woman," said the Philosopher, "you ought to be in bed."

"Ought I indeed?" said the Thin Woman. "I'd have you know that I'll go
to bed when I like and get up when I like without asking your or any one
else's permission."

"That is not true," said the Philosopher. "You get sleepy whether you
like it or not, and you awaken again without your permission being
asked. Like many other customs such as singing, dancing, music, and
acting, sleep has crept into popular favour as part of a religious
ceremonial. Nowhere can one go to sleep more easily than in a church."

"Do you know," said the Thin Woman, "that a Leprecaun came here to-day?"

"I do not," said the Philosopher, "and notwithstanding the innumerable
centuries which have elapsed since that first sleeper (probably with
extreme difficulty) sank into his religious trance, we can to-day sleep
through a religious ceremony with an ease which would have been a source
of wealth and fame to that prehistoric worshipper and his acolytes."

"Are you going to listen to what I am telling you about the Leprecaun?"
said the Thin Woman.

"I am not," said the Philosopher. "It has been suggested that we go
to sleep at night because it is then too dark to do anything else; but
owls, who are a venerably sagacious folk, do not sleep in the night
time. Bats, also, are a very clear-minded race; they sleep in the
broadest day, and they do it in a charming manner. They clutch the
branch of a tree with their toes and hang head downwards--a position
which I consider singularly happy, for the rush of blood to the head
consequent on this inverted position should engender a drowsiness and a
certain imbecility of mind which must either sleep or explode."

"Will you never be done talking?" sho