he late Prince
Consort; and there on the table was the head and antlers of a male
reindeer--beasts that, as I'm telling ye, I knew _sentimately_, and
had killed at all seasons. And this man, who, as I'm telling ye, was
one of the verra furrrst men of the day (which is the reason why I'm
not giving ye his name) spoke on, good and bad, and then he said,
'Ladies and gentlemen, and your Royal Highness, be good enough to look
at the head of this Reindeer. Here ye see the antlers,' and so forth,
'and ye'll obsairve that there's a horn that has the shape of a shovel
and protrudes over the beast's eyes in a way that must be horribly
inconvenient. But when ye see its shape, ye'll perceive one of the
most beautiful designs of Providence, a _proveesion_ as we may say;
for this inconvenient horn is so shaped that with it the beast can
shovel away the deep winter snow and find its accustomed food.'

"And when I heard this I just shook with laughing till a man I knew
saw me, and asked what I was laughing at, and I said, 'Because I
happen to know that the male reindeer _sheds its antlers_ every year
in the beginning of November, _snow shovel_ and all, and does not
resume them till spring.'"!!!!!!

* * * * *

April 26, 1880.

* * * * *

Curious your writing to me about Dante's Hell--and Lethe. Two books in
my childhood gave the outward and visible signs of that inward and
spiritual interest in Death and the Life to Come which is one of the
most vehement ones of childhood (and which breaks out QUITE
as strongly in those who have been carefully brought up apart from
"religious convictions" as in those whose minds have been soaked in
them). One was Flaxman's _Dante_, the other Selous's illustrations in
the same style to the _Pilgrim's Progress_. I do not know whether I
suffered more in my childhood than other children. Possibly, as my
head was a good deal too big for my body! But I remember two troubles
that haunted me. One that I should get tired of Eternity. Another that
I couldn't be happy in Heaven unless I could _forget_. And in this
latter connection I loved indescribably one of Flaxman's best designs.
[_Sketch._] I can't remember it well enough to draw decently, but this
was the attitude of Dante whom Beatrice was just laving in the Waters
of Forgetfulness before they entered Paradise.

And even more fond was I of the passing of the great river by
Christiana