" "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. "No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again. Slash and cut as much as you please. Wood!—no," replied the turnkey. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. “Why should women be dependent on men?” she asked; and the question was at once converted into a system of variations upon the theme of “Why are things as they are?”—“Why are human beings viviparous?”—“Why are people hungry thrice a day?”—“Why does one faint at danger?” She stood for a time looking at the dry limbs and still human face of that desiccated unwrapped mummy from the very beginnings of social life.
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