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 mists to be essentially inherent in the eternal fitness of things."

Mr. Cranium fell into a profound reverie: emerging from which, he said, looking Squire Headlong full in the face: "Do you think Mr. Escot would give me that skull?"

"Skull!" said Squire Headlong.

"Yes," said Mr. Cranium: "the skull of Cadwallader."

"To be sure he will," said the Squire.

"Ascertain the point," said Mr. Cranium.

"How can you doubt it?" said the Squire.

"I simply know," said Mr. Cranium, "that if it were once in my possession, I would not part with it for any acquisition on earth, much less for a wife. I have had one; and as marriage has been compared to a pill, I can very safely assert that one's a dose; and my reason for thinking that he will not part with it, is, that its extraordinary magnitude