The medical officers had no doubt of her complete re-establishment: besides, shortly after her return to calmness they applied the tests recently discovered, and the result furnished conclusive evidence that the malady had been eradicated. On an examination after death there was indeed, as the doctors thought, an unhealthy absence of certain microscopic animalcula, the effects of whose continued presence in excess in one portion of the brain to the detriment of others, lead to madness. The substance of the brain was poor and watery, and it seemed as though at other times there had been more brain than was then found; the lining of the brain was coated with a substance in outward appearance not unlike the fur which sometimes accumulates on the tongue in a fever. The doctors had reason to believe that this fur was composed of the remains of the insects which, probably, had been killed at the time of the second accident, either by the shock or the fumes of the boiling liquid, and it was to this accidental circumstance that they were inclined to attribute the recovery of those parts of the brain which had remained, as it were, slumbering since the first accident. XXIX. THE LITTLE GOATHERD. "The flower is hidden until the electricities of the sun and light draw it forth into life and beauty." In speaking of the "choice of a husband," I referred to the only case I recollected where the lady's hesitation rendered a third meeting necessary. The exception was interesting. Early in my reign, whilst one day walking near the sea-shore, I was struck by the appearance of a little girl who was attending a flock of goats. A kid had fallen over a rock into the sea. The child was a lovely creature, with a beautiful complexion, handsome and expressive eyes, small hands and feet, and silken hair flowing over her shoulders. Her beauty was heightened by the expression of tenderness and grief at the loss of the kid. I was greatly interested, and watched her movements unperceived. She showed great intelligence and presence of mind. Near the sea grows a peculiar kind of stringy reed, very strong and pliable. She tied several of these reeds together, made a noose at one end, and with the other end tied herself to a rock near the edge of the precipice, that she might not overbalance herself, and be dragged down in her endeavours to recover her kid. She then threw down the noose at the other end of the line, and after one or two attempts succeeded with great dexterity in getting it round the body of the kid, which she gradually hauled up to the rock where she stood. Her movements were most graceful, and her address and dexterity truly astonishing. As soon as her success was complete she fondled and embraced the kid as though it had been a favourite sister whom she had saved.