e moral way to
do that. You must have a war--preferably a righteous war. That requires
a cause with two right sides. Such causes are plentiful. Any question
that can be looked at from two sides, either of which, when looked at
rightly is the right side, will serve as the cause for a righteous war.
This dispute that you gentlemen bring me will do nicely. Let the
moralists fight for their moral principles and the rationalists fight
for their facts."

"But," interrupted the Statistician, "my side would have very few
adherents; men do not fight to defend facts. We would be overwhelmed by
superior numbers and annihilated."

"Certainly," said Gud, "what more could you expect if you espouse an
unpopular cause?

"But why stand here babbling? See, your valorous enemy has already
returned to his followers and is calling them to arms. Why do you not
hasten to join your colors?"

"Thanks," replied the Statistician, "but I left a dummy in my place and
I am going to stay right here and count the stars."

Chapter XLV

Passing a heap of fossil platitudes Gud came to an oasis in a Desert of
Righteousness and saw nineteen pretty murderers hanging in a row. There
also he saw the couple who were parted at the altar, a woman who had
lost her intuition, and a herd of ambitious animals who believed in the
transmigration of souls.

Gud entered the caravansary of the place and bargained with the keeper
thereof to make a supper with meat and wine--after which there should be
dancing.

To the supper, Gud bade a Skeptic, a Cynic, a Critic and a Cryptic. And
Gud and his guests made merry.

Gud blew four halos of phosphorescent smoke and gave one to each of his
guests. Whereupon they were flattered and waxed loquacious, and the
Cynic said to Gud: "If you had not insisted on following that Impossible
Curve, but had come here by the straight way, how much sooner you would
have joined us."

"True," agreed the Critic, "but the straight and narrow way would have
seemed much further, for it lies wholly in the Desert of Righteousness."

"But most of all I hate to see," remarked the Cynic, "is a female cat
sitting on a gravestone in the moonlight, after I carefully killed her
the day before."

"Quite true," replied the Cryptic, with a weary shrug.

Chapter XLVI

Then the Skeptic related to Gud some of the gossip of the place. "We
have here," said he, "a powerful sheik who rules over this oasis in the
Desert of Righteousne