an a Galileo or a Kepler. To
use Kossuth's eloquent phrase, they are the unnamed demigods of the
nineteenth century."[B]

* * * * *

"There's a fallacy _somewhere_," he murmured drowsily, as he stretched
his long legs upon the sofa. "I must think it over again." He closed his
eyes, in order to concentrate his attention more perfectly, and for the
next hour or so his slow and regular breathing bore witness to the
careful deliberation with which he was investigating this new and
perplexing view of the subject.

[Illustration: "HE REMAINS STEADFAST AND UNMOVED."]

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote B: _Note by the writer._--For the above Essay I am indebted to
a dear friend, now deceased.]

KNOT X.

CHELSEA BUNS.

"Yea, buns, and buns, and buns!"

OLD SONG.

"How very, very sad!" exclaimed Clara; and the eyes of the gentle girl
filled with tears as she spoke.

"Sad--but very curious when you come to look at it arithmetically," was
her aunt's less romantic reply. "Some of them have lost an arm in their
country's service, some a leg, some an ear, some an eye----"

"And some, perhaps, _all_!" Clara murmured dreamily, as they passed the
long rows of weather-beaten heroes basking in the sun. "Did you notice
that very old one, with a red face, who was drawing a map in the dust
with his wooden leg, and all the others watching? I _think_ it was a
plan of a battle----"

"The battle of Trafalgar, no doubt," her aunt interrupted, briskly.

"Hardly that, I think," Clara ventured to say. "You see, in that case,
he couldn't well be alive----"

"Couldn't well be alive!" the old lady contemptuously repeated. "He's as
lively as you and me put together! Why, if drawing a map in the
dust--with one's wooden leg--doesn't prove one to be alive, perhaps
you'll kindly mention what _does_ prove it!"

Clara did not see her way out of it. Logic had never been her _forte_.

"To return to the arithmetic," Mad Mathesis resumed--the eccentric old
lady never let slip an opportunity of driving her niece into a
calculation--"what percentage do you suppose must have lost all four--a
leg, an arm, an eye, and an ear?"

"How _can_ I tell?" gasped the terrified girl. She knew well what was
coming.

"You can't, of course, without _data_," her aunt replied: "but I'm just
going to give you----"

"Give her a Chelsea bun, Miss! That's what most young ladies likes
best!" The voice was r