Turn it over in your minds." He leaned backward and folded his hands benevolently on his stomach and said in a searching whisper; "Ponder it." He waited for them to ponder it, and little Mr.Swanter, the druggist and bookseller, who prided himself on his politeness and who was seated directly in front, scratched his head and knit his brows to show that he was pondering it.

The stillness was intense; the fans ceased to beat; Mr.Snoddy could be heard breathing dangerously.

Mr.
Swanter was considering the advisability of drawing a pencil from his pocket and figuring on it upon his cuff, when suddenly, with the energy of a whirlwind, the lecturer threw out his arms to their fullest extent and roared: "It is a _fact_! It is carven on stone in the gloomy caverns of TIME.

It is writ in FIRE on the imperishable walls of Fate!" After the outburst, his voice sank with startling rapidity to a tone of honeyed confidence, and he wagged an inviting forefinger at Mr.
Snoddy, who opened his mouth.

"Shall we take an example?
Not from the marvellous, my friends; let us seek an illustration from the ordinary.
Is that not better?
One familiar to the humblest of us.