The first man looked fiercely at the Philosopher, and then motioned to his companion. “Give that man a clout in the jaw,” said he. The second man was preparing to do this when the woman intervened angrily. “Keep your hands to yourself,” said she, “or it’ll be the worse for you. I’m well able to take care of my own husband,” and she drew nearer and sat between the Philosopher and the men. [Illustration: At that moment the Philosopher’s cake lost all its savour] At that moment the Philosopher’s cake lost all its savour, and he packed the remnant into his wallet. They all sat silently looking at their feet and thinking each one according to his nature. The Philosopher’s mind, which for the past day had been in eclipse, stirred faintly to meet these new circumstances, but without much result. There was a flutter at his heart which was terrifying, but not unpleasant. Quickening through his apprehension was an expectancy which stirred his pulses into speed. So rapidly did his blood flow, so quickly were an hundred impressions visualized and recorded, so violent was the surface movement of his brain that he did not realize he was unable to think and that he was only seeing and feeling. The first man stood up. “The night will be coming on soon,” said he, “and we had better be walking on if we want to get a good place to sleep. Yep, you devil,” he roared at the ass, and the ass began to move almost before he lifted his head from the grass. The two men walked one on either side of the cart, and the woman and the Philosopher walked behind at the tail-board. “If you were feeling tired, or anything like that, Mister Honey,” said the woman, “you could climb up into the little cart, and nobody would say a word to you, for I can see that you are not used to travelling.” “I am not indeed, ma’am,” he replied; “this is the first time I ever came on a journey, and if it wasn’t for Angus Óg I wouldn’t put a foot out of my own place for ever.” “Put Angus Óg out of your head, my dear,” she replied, “for what would the likes of you and me be saying to a god. He might put a curse on us would sink us into the ground or burn us up like a grip of straw. Be contented now, I’m saying, for if there is a woman in the world who knows all things I am that woman myself, and if you tell your trouble to me I’ll tell you the thing to do just as good as Angus himself, and better perhaps.” “That is very interesting,” said the Philosopher. “What kind of things do you know best?” “If you were to ask one of them two men walking beside the ass they’d tell you plenty of things they saw me do when they could do nothing themselves. When there wasn’t a road to take anywhere I showed them a road, and when there wasn’t a bit of food in the world I gave them food, and when they were bet to the last I put shillings in their hands, and that’s the reason they wanted to marry me.” “Do you call that kind of thing wisdom?” said the Philosopher.