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“What have they come here for?”

“You will have to ask themselves that.”

Pan looked at them smilingly.

“What have you come here for, little children?” said he.

The children questioned one another with their eyes to see which of them would reply, and then Seumas Beg answered:

“My father sent me to see you, sir, and to say that you were not doing a good thing in keeping Caitilin Ni Murrachu away from her own place.”

Brigid Beg turned to Caitilin-“Your father came to see our father, and he said that he didn’t know what had become of you at all, and that maybe you were lying flat in a ditch with the black crows picking at your flesh.”

“And what,” said Pan, “did your father say to that?”

“He told us to come and ask her to go home.”

“Do you love your father, little child?” said Pan.

Brigid Beg thought for a moment. “I don’t know, sir,” she replied.

“He doesn’t mind us at all,” broke in Seumas Beg, “and so we don’t know whether we love him or not.”

“I like Caitilin,” said Brigid, “and I like you.”

“So do I,” said Seumas.

“I like you also, little children,” said Pan. “Come over here and sit beside me, and we will talk.”

So the two children went over to Pan and sat down one each side of him, and he put his arms about them. “Daughter of Murrachu,” said he, “is there no food in the house for guests?”

“There is a cake of bread, a little goat’s milk and some cheese,” she replied, and she set about getting these things.

“I never ate cheese,” said Seumas. “Is it good?”

“Surely it is,” replied Pan. “The cheese that is made from goat’s milk is rather strong, and it is good to be eaten by people who live in the open air, but not by those who live in houses, for such people do not have any appetite. They are poor creatures whom I do not like.”

“I like eating,” said Seumas.

“So do I,” said Pan. “All good people like eating. Every person who is hungry is a good person, and every person who is not hungry is a bad person. It is better to be hungry than rich.”

Caitilin having supplied the children with food, seated herself in front of them. “I don’t think that is right,” said she. “I have always been hungry, and it was never good.”

“If you had always been full you would like it even less,” he replied, “because when you are hungry you are alive, and when you are not hungry you are only half alive.”

“One has to be poor to be hungry,” replied Caitilin. “My father is poor and gets no good of it but to work from morning to night and never to stop doing that.”

“It is bad for a wise person to be poor,” said Pan, “and it is bad for a fool to be rich. A rich fool will think of nothing else at first but to find a dark house wherein to hide away, and there he will satisfy his hunger, and he will continue to do that until his hunger is dead and he is no better than dead but a wise person who is rich will carefully preserve his appetite. All people who have been rich for a long time, or who are rich from birth, live a great deal outside of their houses, and so they are always hungry and healthy.”

“Poor people have no time to be wise,” said Caitilin.

“They have time to be hungry,” said Pan. “I ask no more of them.”

“My father is very wise,” said Seumas Beg.

“How do you know that, little boy?” said Pan.

“Because he is always talking,” replied Seumas. “Do you always listen, my dear?”

“No, sir,” said Seumas; “I go to sleep when he talks.”

“That is very clever of you,” said Pan.

“I go to sleep too,” said Brigid.

“It is clever of you also, my darling. Do you go to sleep when your mother talks?”

“Oh, no,” she answered. “If we went to sleep then our mother would pinch us and say that we were a bad breed.”

“I think your mother is wise,” said Pan. “What do you like best in the world, Seumas Beg?”

The boy thought for a moment and replied: “I don’t know, sir.”

Pan also thought for a little time.

“I don’t know what I like best either,” said he. “What do you like best in the world, Shepherd Girl?”

Caitilin’s eyes were fixed on his.

“I don’t know yet,” she answered slowly.

“May the gods keep you safe from that knowledge,” said Pan gravely.

“Why would you say that?” she replied. “One must find out all things, and when we find out a thing we know if it is good or bad.”

“That is the beginning of knowledge,” said Pan, “but it is not the beginning of wisdom.”

“What is the beginning of wisdom?”

“It is carelessness,” replied Pan.

“And what is the end of wisdom?” said she.

“I do not know,” he answered, after a little pause.

“Is it greater carelessness?” she enquired.

“I do not know, I do not know,” said he sharply. “I am tired of talking,” and, so saying, he turned his face away from them and lay down on the couch.

Caitilin in great concern hurried the children to the door of the cave and kissed them good-bye.

“Pan is sick,” said the boy gravely.

“I hope he will be well soon again,” the girl murmured.

“Yes, yes,” said Caitilin, and she ran back quickly to her lord.





BOOK II. THE PHILOSOPHER’S JOURNEY





CHAPTER X

WHEN the children

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