"A very healthy spot," replied the partner.

Then they wanted to go and bathe. But there was no proper bathing-place,
in the philosophical sense of the word. There was nothing but the
stony ground and mud.

After they had bathed the philosopher felt thirsty, and wanted to
drink a glass of water at the spring. It was of a reddish-brown
colour, and had a peculiar, strong taste. It was no good. Nothing
was any good. And meat was unobtainable, there was nothing to be
had but fish.

The philosopher grew gloomy and sat down under a pumpkin to deplore
his fate. But there was no help for it. He had to stay, and his
partner returned to town to look after the business during his
friend's absence.

Six weeks passed and then the partner returned to his philosopher.

He was met on the bridge by a slender youth with red cheeks and a
sunburnt neck. It was the philosopher, rejuvenated and full of high
spirits.

He jumped over the six stiles and chased the bull.

When they were sitting on the verandah, the partner said to him:--

"You are looking very well, what sort of a time have you had?"

"Oh! an excellent time!" said the philosopher. "The fences have