s you any good,
if it really teaches you anything, your brain must keep changing its
contents.'

"The Deacon hammered the table with his cane, as he shouted:

"'You cussed fool of a lawyer! Don't you know that truth never
changes? Truth, sir, is eternal.'

"Then I took the bat. 'Truth often changes, but error is eternal,' I
said. 'You know when you want to prove anything, these days, you
quote from the memoirs of a great man. Well, I was reading the memoirs
of the late Doctor Godfrey Vogeldam Guph not long ago. He told of a
man who was very singular, but not so singular as the doctor seemed to
think. This man knew more than any human being has a right to know. He
knew the plans of God, and had formed an unalterable opinion about all
his neighbors. Then he locked up his mind and guarded it night and
day, for fear that somebody would break in and carry off its contents.
And it did seem as if people wanted to get hold of his treasure, for
they often came and asked about it, and some even questioned its
value. He said, "Away with you--truth is eternal, and my soul is full
and I will part with none of it."

"'Meanwhile the truth about things around him began to change. Neighbor
Smith became a good man. Neighbor Brown became a bad man. Priscilla
Jones, who had been a vain and foolish woman, was one of the saints of
God. The foundations of the world had changed. In a generation it
had grown millions of years older and different--wonderfully
different! Even God himself had changed, it would seem. His methods were
not as people had thought them. His character was milder. Everything
had changed but this one man. Now when he died and came to St. Peter,
the latter said to him:

"'"Who were your friends?"

"'The new-comer thought a minute, and mentioned the names of some
people who had been long dead. "They know the truth about me," he
said.

"'"Ah, but the truth changes, and they haven't seen you in many
years," said St. Peter.

"'"But I have not changed," said the man. "I am just as when they saw
me."

"'"Then you are a fool or the chief of sinners," said St. Peter.
"Behold a man as changeless as the flint-stone, who has made no
friends in over forty years! That is all I need to know about you.
Take either gate you please."

"'"One leads to Heaven--doesn't it?" said the new-comer, in great
alarm.

"'"Yes, but you wouldn't recognize the place. There isn't a soul in
paradise that cares which way you go--not a soul i