CHAPTER XVIII.
HE OPENS THE WRONG DOOR.
My mother and the ancient lady who presided over the mysteries of my initiation as a member of the human fraternity, say that I was born with a caul over my face.

Now, what I want to know is, why didn't they leave that caul where they found it?
What business had they to meddle with the veil which beneficent nature gave me as a shield to my infirmity?
Had they respected her intention, they would have let it alone--poked a hole in it for me to eat and breathe through, and left the veil which she kindly provided to hide my blushing face from the eyes of my fellow-creatures.
Nature knew beforehand that I was going to be born to be bashful.
Therefore she gave me a caul.

Had this been respected as it should have been, I could have blossomed out into my full luxuriance as a _cauli_flower whereas now I am an ever-blooming peony.
When I rushed home after recovering from the fainting fit into which my hiding under the bed had driven me, I threw myself down in he sanctity of my private apartment and howled and shrieked for that caul of my infancy.

But no caul came at my call.

That dried and withered thing was reposing somewhere amid the curiosities of an old hag's bureau-drawer.
Then I wildly wished that I were the veiled prophet of Khorassan.