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 pulled the text-book out of my pocket and began running my thumb back and forth across the edges of the leaves.

"Well," said Uncle Rob.

"Too dense for me," I said.

"Can't you understand it?"

"No,—and no one else can, either."

"That's rather a broad statement, isn't it?" said Uncle Rob. "I know a very large number of people who say that they understand it."

"Well, they just say it to make people think they know a lot; or because they think that if they believe it, or just swallow it and try to think they understand it, they 'I'll get health, wealth, and happiness in some mysterious sort of a way, they don't know how. I don't believe there's anything to understand in it;—it's just a jumble of ideas that don't mean anything;—and it contradicts itself, and uses words in a way that you don't expect to have them used." I don't know exactly why it should irritate me because other people liked the book, when I didn't have to, if I didn't want to;—but it did, just the same.

Uncle Rob looked at me soberly. "Do you really believe all that, Chester?" he asked.