In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through. My son went down after his death. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. Eventually her movements carried her to the little stand at the side of the bed. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. But whither The Tigress was bound or who the owner was lay beyond the reach of Ah Cum's deductions.
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