"
"Has Armine been talking in that curious fashion of his," said Carey,
as they began to pace the walks. "I am afraid his thinker is too
big-—as the child says in Miss Tytler's book. This morning over his
parsing he asked me-—'Mother, which is _realest_, what we touch or
what we feel?' knitting his brows fearfully when I did not catch his
meaning, and going on-—'I mean is that fly as real as King David?'
and then as I was more puzzled he went on—-'You see we only need just
see that fly now with our outermost senses, and he will only live a
little while, and nobody cares or will think of him any more, but
everybody always does think, and feel, and care a great deal about
King David.' I told him, as the best answer I could make on the spur
of the moment, that David was alive in Heaven, but he pondered in and
broke out—-'No, that's not it! David was a real man, but it is just
the same about Perseus and Siegfried, and lots of people that never
were men, only just thoughts. Ain't thoughts _realer_ than things,
mother?'"
"But much worse for him, I should say," exclaimed Mary.
"I thought of Pisistratus Caxton, and wrote to Mr. Ogilvie. It is a
great pity, but I am afraid he ought not to dwell on such things till
his body is grown up to his mind.
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