my eyes intently on the man as I spoke.

"And his blood is three times as warm as mine. I need not tell you
that, doctor."

"How do you know?"

"How do I know?" speaking contemptuously--"does not everybody know
that?"

"How hot do you suppose your blood is?"

"I don't know."

"Let us suppose it to be eighty degrees. Three times eighty would be
two hundred and forty. Water boils at two hundred and twelve. If it
be indeed true that the lad's blood is above the boiling-point, I
must agree with you that his clothes are quite sufficient to keep
out the cold at any season."

"You understand me well enough, doctor," replied Maxwell, exhibiting
a good deal of confusion. "I mean that a boy's blood is much warmer
than a man's, which, with his greater activity, causes him to be
less affected by cold. I have seen a good deal of boys, and have
been a boy myself, and know all about it."

"Generally speaking, what you affirm about the greater warmth of
young persons is true," I said to this. "But there are many
exceptions. It is true, where there is good health, good spirits,
plenty of good food, and activity. But it is not true where these
are lacking. Nor is it true in any case to the extent you seem to
imagine. Particularly is it not true in the case of the boy about
whom we are conversing."

"Why not in his case, doctor? I can see no reason."

"He has not the vital activity of most boys of his age, and
consequently not the warmth of body. His face is pale and thin, and
his limbs have not the fulness of youth. He has no activity in his
movements."

"Because he is a lazy fellow," replied the shoemaker, knitting his
brows. "He wants the strap two or three times a day; that would make
his blood circulate freely enough."

"Brutal wretch!" I could hardly keep from exclaiming. But for the
boy's sake I put a curb upon my feelings.

"In doing so," I quietly replied, "you would be guilty of sad
cruelty and injustice. The lad can no more help what you call
laziness, than you could help being born with gray eyes. It his
natural bodily temperament. He has not the robust constitution we
see in most boys; and this is his misfortune, not his fault."

Maxwell replied to this by pushing out his lips, drawing up his
chin, half closing his eyes, and nodding his head in a very
contemptuous manner; saying almost as plainly as words could express
it--"All gammon, doctor! You needn't try to come over me with that
kind of nonsense."