It was a boy; but a very odd boy, Oscar thought. He was not any bigger than Oscar, but he seemed to be a good deal older. He had a broad flat face, with a sharp little nose in the middle of it, a wide thin mouth, and pale eyes which stuck out very far, and over which he wore spectacles. He had pale reddish hair growing upright on his head. His legs were so thin that it seemed a wonder he could stand upon them, and indeed they were bowed out sideways, as if the boy's weight were too much for them. His arms also were thin, but his hands were immensely large and red, with stiff, thick fingers, and huge thumbs. He was not quite facing the window, but stood sideways towards it, and looked at Oscar askance. The skin of this boy's face was coarse and rough, and seemed as thick as orange-peel. 'What is your name?' asked the strange boy, after a while. Oscar told him what it was. 'What an absurdly old-fashioned name!' said the boy, contemptuously. 'I have a better name than that--my name is Kanker!' 'Do you want anything?' said Oscar. 'Yes,' said Kanker. 'I want to ask questions. I am in search of truth. I never believe lies; so you needn't tell me any.' 'I never tell lies,' said Oscar, gravely. 'That is a lie to begin with. Everybody tells lies--except me! Everything lies--the things that can't talk, as well as the things that can. The world is a lie.' 'The world is not a lie,' said Oscar, indignantly. 'And if you think it is, why do you search for truth?' 'I have at all events found the only truth there is to be found--and that is, that everything is a lie,' replied Kanker. 'I have proved it a thousand times already, and every new question I ask proves it again.' 'What makes your hands so big?' Oscar could not help asking. 'They are no bigger than they ought to be,' Kanker answered, holding them up and looking at them admiringly. 'I use them to touch things with. I never believe in anything that I haven't touched. Nothing exists unless I can touch it. Come out of that room, so that I may touch you, and see whether you exist.' 'I will come out,' said Oscar; for he thought it would be better to go to Kanker than to have Kanker come in to him. 'But you need not touch me; I can touch myself if I want to.' Nevertheless, no sooner had he come out than Kanker took hold of him by the arm, and gripped it so hard with his big red hand that Oscar said, 'Let go, you hurt me!' 'Your touching yourself would prove nothing to me, you know,' said Kanker. 'Well, you seem to exist. Where are your father and mother?' 'They are not here,' answered Oscar. 'They are gone--long ago.' 'I don't believe it. Where did they go to?' 'Over there,' said Oscar, pointing across the sea. 'Nonsense! Do you mean they are drowned?' 'No. They are gone to a country over there.' 'How do you know there is a country over there? Did you ever touch it?' Oscar shook his head.