"That's it. Grocery people like it, but you couldn't. You see youwasn't used to it. Well, I wasn't used to being young, and Icouldn't seem to take any interest in it. I was strong, andhandsome, and had curly hair,--yes, and wings, too!--gay wings like

"Yes, I tried keeping grocery, once, up in the mines; but Icouldn't stand it; it was too dull--no stir, no storm, no lifeabout it; it was like being part dead and part alive, both at thesame time. I wanted to be one thing or t'other. I shut up shoppretty quick and went to sea."

"Well, you can be young if you want to. You've only got to wish.""Well, then, why didn't you wish?""I did. They all do. You'll try it, some day, like enough; butyou'll get tired of the change pretty soon."

"Well," says I, "come to think, there's something just here that Iwant to ask about. Down below, I always had an idea that in heavenwe would all be young, and bright, and spry."

New Jersey. I went about with him, considerable. We used to layaround, warm afternoons, in the shade of a rock, on some meadow-ground that was pretty high and out of the marshy slush of hiscranberry-farm, and there we used to talk about all kinds ofthings, and smoke pipes. One day, says I--