IN THE LANDAFF VALLEY 225 



phrase; not quite "all there," perhaps; a 

 kind of eighth dreamer, " moving about in 

 worlds not realized ; " but at bottom we are 

 sympathetic and appreciative. We would 

 not have each other different, unless, indeed, 

 it were a little younger. A grain of oddity 

 is a good spice. If we are not deeply inter- 

 ested in the newest discovery, at least we par- 

 ticipate in the exultation of the discoverer. 



" That 's a good fly," said the entomolo- 

 gist. We were driving, three of us, talking 

 of something or nothing (we are never care- 

 ful which it is), when the happy dipteran 

 blundered into the carriage, and into the 

 very lap of its admirer. Ten seconds more, 

 and it was under the anaesthetic spell of cy- 

 anide of potassium, which (so we are told) 

 puts its victims to sleep as painlessly, per- 

 haps as blissfully, as chloroform. It was 

 an inspiration to see how instantly the lady 

 recognized a "good" one (it was one of a 

 thousand, literally, for the day was summer- 

 like), and how readily, and with no waste 

 of motions, she made it her own. I was re- 

 minded of a story. 



A friend of mine, a tridy devout woman. 



