ON the following day we went out soon after breakfast and walked up and down a grass pathbetween two yew hedges; the dew was not yet off the grass that lay in shadow; and thin patches ofgossamer still hung like torn cambric on the yew shoots on either side. As we passed for the secondtime up the path, the old man suddenly stooped and pushing aside a dock-leaf at the foot of thehedge lifted a dead mouse, and looked at it as it lay stiffly on the palm of his hand, and I saw that hiseyes filled slowly with the ready tears of old age."He has chosen his own resting-place," he said. "Let him lie there. Why did I disturb him?"--andhe laid him gently down again; and then gathering a fragment of wet earth he sprinkled it over themouse. "Earth to earth, ashes to ashes," he said, "in sure and certain hope"--and then he stopped;and straightening himself with difficulty walked on, and I followed him."You seemed interested," he said, "in my story yesterday. Shall I tell you how I saw a verydifferent sight when I was a little older?" And when I had told him how strange and attractive hisstory had been, he began."I told you how I found it impossible to see again what I had seen in the glade. For a few weeks, perhaps months, I tried now and then to force myself to feel that Presence, or at least to see thatrobe, but I could not, because it is the gift of God, and can no more be gained by effort thanordinary sight can be won by a sightless man; but I soon ceased to try."I reached eighteen years at last, that terrible age when the soul seems to have dwindled to a sparkoverlaid by a mountain of ashes--when blood and fire and death and loud noises seem the onlythings of interest, and all tender things shrink back and hide from the dreadful noonday ofmanhood. Some one gave me one of those shot-pistols that you may have seen, and I loved thesense of power that it gave me, for I had never had a gun. For a week or two in the summer holidaysI was content with shooting at a mark, or at the level surface of water, and delighted to see thecardboard shattered, or the quiet pool torn to shreds along its mirror where the sky and green laysleeping. Then that ceased to interest me, and I longed to see a living thing suddenly stop living atmy will. Now," and he held up a deprecating hand, "I think sport is necessary for some natures.After all, the killing of creatures is necessary for man's food, and sport as you will tell me is asurvival of man's delight in obtaining food, and it requires certain noble qualities of endurance andskill. I know all that, and I know further that for some natures it is a relief--an escape for humoursthat will otherwise find an evil vent. But I do know this--that for me it was not necessary