force. One got into the house by a low window and opened the door to the rest; they found poor Bulger lying on his bed—they thought—dead as a herring, but the doctors say 'tis a most interesting case of catalepsy."
I listened without speaking. "What a queer old world it is!" I thought; "we must have a name for everything, no matter how wonderful, or where would our doctors and men of science be? Nothing is left to the God who designed the whole. Our beliefs are superstitions, we laugh them away; we would explain the very law of life itself."
A hand was laid upon my arm.
"Play a game of cards, Graham? The fellows are asking me."
"No, no; this is no place for you—for me. Come out of it quickly."
But the men surrounded us.
"You are not going yet? just one game, then?"
Fool that I was, I complied, and took my seat at the table. They thought I was a "green one," as was evident from their surprised looks when I swept up their little pile of silver at the end of the first game.
"You would think it was old Bulger him-
