"Well," I suggested, at last, "we must first find an up-to-date surgeon who's willing to undertake the job. . . . Next, we must get another monkey--a bigger and better one than that scrubby little brute you bought yesterday. I'm in favor of a gorilla, or an ourang-outang, something with active and powerful internal organs. . . . Then we want a list of the glands you're most likely to require. I don't think an entire outfit would be advisable at first. One should go carefully in such matters--starting with, perhaps, two or three new glands. If they're a success you can extend the enterprise. . . . There's no reason, for instance, why you shouldn't go one better than Nature and have some of them in duplicate--a couple of pairs of each, say. I believe they're all in pairs; but we can go into that later. It's a big thing, and it will want a good deal of studying. . . ." I found my enthusiasm growing. "By Jove!" I cried. "This is going to be some experiment, Gran'pa! Think of it! You're ninety-five--packed with memories and experiences; crammed full of calm common-sense, a sort of perambulating encyclopædia of acquired knowledge--the most valuable form of wisdom in the world--but at present, you are hopelessly handicapped by physical disabilities. Your senses are deadened, your mind is stupefied, your . . ." "Gently, George!" But I couldn't help it. The possibilities underlying that rejuvenescence were so great that the mere contemplation of them carried me away. "Remove all those degenerative influences, those bodily encumbrances," I went on, "and you have MIND triumphant. Even as you are, you're a wonderful old man, but with youth on your side . . ." "You flatter me, George! But it certainly is going to be a BIG THING!" I was going to say more, but at that moment Nanny entered with the first instalment of dinner. "We'll begin to-morrow," I said. Nanny stared at me in amazement, the tray trembling in her hands. "I was speaking to Gran'pa," I explained. She put the tray down and looked at both of us a little doubtfully. "If this thing's a success," I thought, "perhaps Nanny would like a new outfit, too. I should be sorry to lose her some day, and here's a very simple solution of the difficulty. I'll speak to her about it later. . . ." We sat down to dinner and, presently, I drank to the success of Gran'pa's great venture into the Unknown, to that prospective fight of his against the muffling embrace of Old Age. "May you regain your youth," I said, simply. "And your right hand recover its strength and cunning. Here's to you, sir!" Molly kicked me under the table and, when Gran'pa bent over his soup a moment later, she made frenzied, interrogatory signs to me, with her eyebrows lifted. I pretended not to understand. "Daddy," she whispered, "is he going to have some of those inter-stitches put in?" I nodded. "Oo-oo! Isn't it exciting!" It certainly was! And Heaven alone knew where it would end. . . . CHAPTER III