" If I had my way," said our guide once, after a prolonged
burst, "I would never let the poor unfortunate have those
cannon balls to play with. That laughter makes the very
man-ow freeze in my bones. Poor creature ! What an existence
— what a fate ! "

" What brought it on ? " we asked, seeing the woman more
than willing to speak of the matter. " Is it hereditary ? "

" Oh, no. It is the result of a terrible blow when he was
seven years old. He fell out of window on his head, and that
and the fright turned his brain. It is a thousand pities. He
is tall and handsome ; well made and well proportioned, with
a fine head; and in his beautiful blue eyes you never see a
trace of madness excepting when he plays with those miserable
balls."

" How old is he ? "

" He is twenty-one. There was some hope that about now
he might regain his reason, but as yet I see no sign of it."

"They do wonders in these days," we observed. "It is
quite possible that as the madness is the result of an accident,
it is due to some pressure upon the brain. An operation might
remove this, so that he would recover his reason. Doctors now
perform almost miracles."

" Heaven grant it might be so," cried the woman fervently.
