THE WILD MAN
'Good Sirs, though wild enough indeed, yet may I claim to be an unspoilt child of nature, whose finest instincts have, unchecked, found their true development. Thus, communing with nature from my cradle and living on terms of the closest intimacy with her wildest creatures, I can appreciate their humble wants, their hopes and fears, and have acquired the truly marvellous power of conversing with these simple-minded denizens of the wilderness.
'My home was a rocky cave hard by the sea-shore, in which I lived in simple happiness with my good wife, now dead, alas! this many a long year ago, and our five brown children, who long since have grown to men and gone out into the world to seek their fortunes. Harmless indeed were our joys, and our trials we bore with that great fortitude which was not the least of the blessings we derived from our simple mode of life.
'To proceed with my tale, on one dismal evening late in autumn, I left my cave, with the hungry cries of my children still in my ears,—for, indeed, the poor things had had no sup or bite the whole day through. Wondering what I could do that they might not go supperless to bed, I strolled along the sands by the sea in the hope of finding some odd limpet or whelk which, together with a few dried dandelion leaves, might make a simple stew. Alas! no vestige of a single crustacean could I find, so I sat me down upon the sands, determined not to return until the children
