I attempted to account for myself during the twelve years’ absence, but Saxe. cut me short. “I know all about it,” he said, “kept track of you right along. Regretted very much your sporty life, but when you deserted Folly you cultivated Seriousness at the wrong end. You remained at nothing long enough to make a success; you surrendered to failure right off, and the sincere enthusiast never admits failure. You have wasted many valuable years, but we’ll talk later of that. What I have in these poems will improve with simmering. Come, I’ll show you about the place.” He escorted me through the tiny hall to several rooms. There was a sitting room, a cozy smoking room, a library, and three bed rooms. The books in the library were piled high from floor to ceiling without shelves or covering, and tumbled in every direction. “Best way to keep books,” he explained, “too open for moths, and mildew never attacks them. Then if you want a book you can lay hand on it at once. I’m here when I’m not in the attic.” We visited the cellar. Saxe. with pride showed me several brands of fancy wine in casks and bottles, and there was a large variety of imported liquors. Two cobwebbed bottles he took from the shelves, remarking: “We’ll test them later,” and then he led the way to the attic, a most remarkable room, comprising the length and width of the house. It was packed with odd instruments, huge globes and vast maps of the world cut the corners and lined the walls; there were telescopes, and great charts of the heavens, and monstrous cylinders and electric batteries, and tall, crystal columns, filled with fiery hued liquid; and there was a queer steel contrivance resembling a table with the top cut out, and suspended in the center was a huge, crystal globe, pierced by a steel rod. The globe revolved upon this rod with wonderful rapidity. Saxlehner vouchsafed no explanations. Another thing which roused my curiosity was something of vast dimensions carefully covered with canvas. Saxe. jealously guarded this treasure, whatever it was, and skillfully turned my attention to other matters. “And was it for this you resigned everything?” I blurted out. “Exactly,” he replied. “Where does it lead to?” “North Pole.” I turned to him in astonishment, he stared back defiantly. I refrained from remark, but—a sensible man like Saxe. should have such a fool desire! “And the end?” I asked stupidly. “North Pole!” he cried out impatiently. “Well! well! well!” He took my arm and led me down stairs, remarking: “I was about to eat the finest dinner I ever tasted in my life.”