The Philosopher, with aching head, sat down to write, and penned these
words,--
"_Cosmical space is filled with meteorites of all sizes, flying about
with immense velocities in all directions._"
"Good Heavens! or, rather, Bad Heavens!" exclaimed a simple-minded
visitor, to whom he read this statement, "why, 'Cosmical space' must be
uncommonly like a proclaimed district in Ireland, or Trafalgar Square
during a Socialist riot."
The Philosopher perceived that he was not in the presence of a
sympathetic mind, and regretted having invited the visitor to lunch.