CHAPTER III.

The Philosopher, with aching head, sat down to write, and penned these words,--

"_Cosmical space is filled with meteorites of all sizes, flying about with immense velocities in all directions._"

"Good Heavens! or, rather, Bad Heavens!" exclaimed a simple-minded visitor, to whom he read this statement, "why, 'Cosmical space' must be uncommonly like a proclaimed district in Ireland, or Trafalgar Square during a Socialist riot."

The Philosopher perceived that he was not in the presence of a sympathetic mind, and regretted having invited the visitor to lunch.