"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--

Along in the first months I knocked around about the Kingdom,making friends and looking at the country, and finally settled downin a pretty likely region, to have a rest before taking anotherstart. I went on making acquaintances and gathering upinformation. I had a good deal of talk with an old bald-headed

Says I, "It's the sensiblest heaven I've heard of yet, Sam, thoughit's about as different from the one I was brought up on as a liveprincess is different from her own wax figger."

novelty is over and the force of the contrast dulled, it ain'thappiness any longer, and you have to get something fresh. Well,there's plenty of pain and suffering in heaven--consequentlythere's plenty of contrasts, and just no end of happiness."

happiness ain't a THING IN ITSELF--it's only a CONTRAST withsomething that ain't pleasant. That's all it is. There ain't athing you can mention that is happiness in its own self--it's onlyso by contrast with the other thing. And so, as soon as the

"Now that's all reasonable and right," says I. "Plenty of work,and the kind you hanker after; no more pain, no more suffering--""Oh, hold on; there's plenty of pain here--but it don't kill.There's plenty of suffering here, but it don't last. You see,