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I am not an old man, you say? Well, you are right there: one is not usually considered old at the age of forty-five. Why am I so bald, then? Ah, friend, you may well ask. Men do not usually lose their hair so early in life; and my scalp was polished, in this shining fashion, some fifteen years ago. It took only one grim night’s work to do it all.

A story? Yes, comrade, there is a story anent this same poor bald pate of mine; and, if you wish to hear it, I will tell it you. It is an old story now, and over familiar to our friends about here, for I fear I have gabbled it somewhat too often when the bottle has been going round; but, as you never heard it before, you will find it as good as new. The up-train is not due for a full