In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. ‘Alors, you make a game with me, I see that.
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