dinner. After dinner I go to a theatre, or a music-hall, or a dance. Then I go to bed and sleep like a log. Of course my spirit goes out on the astral plane, and I've no doubt it is engaged in important activities, so the night's all right. But what a day—a hog's life. What good am I to Humanity?"
"None at all," said I cheerily, as he paused.
I knew that his eye rested on me severely, but I did not meet it; and he went on, "Look at Bottiger." I looked at Bottiger, and saw him harden his back. "Bottiger rises in the morning and eats a large and varied breakfast"
"I always begin with porridge," said Bottiger in a tone of sturdy defiance. "I make a point of it."
"And go on to fish and meat and eggs and bacon and toast and marmalade," said Chelubai, and his tone grew more accusing with each item. "Then he reads a sporting paper, and sends off his man with a wire to his bookmaker. Then he goes to Richmond and plays golf all the morning to get an appetite for a large and varied lunch. Then he plays Bridge all the afternoon to get an appetite for a large and varied dinner. Or he goes shooting, killing harmless birds and beasts with weapons of precision—a barbarous occupation"
"Barbarous?" cried Bottiger wrathfully. "I
