verything. Not part, you know, as everybody does; I
should see everything."

"What would you do, Elisha, when you had got to the end of
everything?--seen it all?"

"Don't believe I could. The world's big enough to last one man."

"Don't know but what it is," said Norton. "Will you write a book?"

"Guess not. Take too much time."

"Then the travelling would do nobody good but you?" said David.

"Who else should it?" replied Elisha.

"The _book_ would do nobody any good, if he were to write it,"
suggested Judy.

"Polite"--said Elisha.

"Selfish"--retorted Judy.

"Everybody is selfish," returned the young cynic.

"'Tain't true," said Norton; "but I haven't time to argue just now.
I've got work enough to do as a judge. Are we most through? I declare,
here's half a dozen more to speak. Speak quick, please; and don't say
so many odd things. The judge's work isn't going to be a trifle, in
this court. Dick Morton, go ahead."

"I'd like to be able to do just what I have a mind to," said Dick.

"Bravo! only that's what we're all after. Come a little nearer the
point, Dick; what'll you do with your time?"

"I'd be a hunter. I'd have first-rate rifles, you know, and pistols,
and all that; and people to help; and I'd just go hunting. I'd kill
buffaloes in the West till I had enough of that, and take a turn at a
bear or so; then I'd go to Africa and have a royal time with the
rhinoceros and lions, and maybe crocodiles. I'd spend a good while in
Africa. Elephants, too. Then I'd cross over to India and hunt tigers.
I'd chase ostriches too."

"Not in India," said David.

"I didn't say, in India; but where they are. Deer of course,
everywhere; and chamois, and all that."

"Birds?" suggested Norton.

"O yes, by the way, you know. I'd live upon ducks and snipe and wild
turkey."

"When you weren't eating venison and buffalo hump," said David.

"Well--I'd have variety enough," said Dick. "I tell you! a hunter's
supper is jolly."

"All alone?" said Esther.

"Another specimen of selfishness," said Judy. "They're all alike as two
pears--only some of 'em are green, and the others a different colour."

"That's _your_ business," said Norton summing up; "now what's the good
of it, Dick?"

"Fun. What's the good of anything?"

"To be sure," said the Judge. "Julie Simpson?"

But Julie wriggled and simpered, and could not be got to express
herself otherwise. The sayings of several next corning were only echoes
of som