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 motherless child called him away from his books for a short while, he was annoyed. On one occasion, when he was obliged to follow his father's body to its last resting-place, he said to himself, sighing deeply, "I wish I had no heart," thinking if he had none it would be an easy matter to seclude himself from the large world, and his fellowmen, whom he did not love.

When at home, this wise man was, as a rule, occupied with boiling, melting, and mixing the most remarkable things. One day he placed a small pot on a quaint-looking little oven, and was in the act of carrying out a very important experiment. The pot contained, namely: three drops of rat's blood; forty drops of the juice of henbane and chelidonia; the finger of a thief, who had been hanged on the gallows; four slugs; the heart of a frog, and a bit of his own finger-nail. As soon as this began to boil, the wise man poured three drops of a green fluid into the pot. Instantly a white steam arose, spread itself above the stove, and assumed the shape of a ghost's figure, surmounted by a large head with a pale, colorless countenance, large, round eyes, and a broad mouth.

The old sage was struck with astonishment, and wondered if this figure might, indeed, be Fortune itself.

"What do you wish for?" asked the figure, with its broad mouth.