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. " "Mr. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. You can test it out on us this Thanksgiving Sunday.
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