The monkey moved Dave Cowan to lecture again upon the mysteries of organic evolution.

“About three hundred million years difference between those two,” he said, indicating Herman and his pet with a wave of the calabash.  “And it’s no good asking whether it’s worth while, because we have to go on and on.  That little beast is your second cousin, Herman.”

“I got a Cousin Emil in the old country,” said Minna, “but he ain’t lookin’ like this last time I seen him.  I guess you’re foolish in the head again.”

“He came out of the forest and learned to stand up, to walk without using his hands, and he got a thumb, and pretty soon he was able to be a small-town mayor or run a nice decent saloon and argue about politics.”

“Hah, that’s a good one!” said Herman.  “You hear what he says, Emil?”

The beast looked up from his banana, regarding them from eyes unutterably sad.

“See?” said Dave.  “That’s the life force, and for a minute it’s conscious that it’s only a monkey.”

They became silent under Emil’s gaze of acute pathos—­human life aware of its present frustration.  Then suddenly Emil became once more an animated and hungry monkey with no care but for his food.

“There,” said Dave.  “I ask you, isn’t that the way we do?  Don’t we stop to think sometimes and get way down, and then don’t we feel hungry and forget it all and go to eating?”

“Sure, Emil is sensible just like us,” said Minna.

“But there’s some catch about the whole thing,” said Dave.  “Say, Doc, what do you think life is, anyway?”

Purdy scanned the monkey with shrewd eyes, and grinned.

“I only know what it is physiologically,” he said.  “Physiologically, life is a constant force rhythmically overcoming a constant resistance.”

“Pretty good,” said Dave, treasuring the phrase.  “The catch must be right there—­it always does overcome the constant resistance.”

“When it can’t in one plant,” said Purdy, “it dismantles it and builds another, making improvements from time to time.”

“Think what it’s had to do,” said Dave, “to build Herman from a simple, unimproved plant like Emil!  Herman’s a great improvement on Emil.”

“My Herman has got a soul,” said Minna, stoutly—­“monkeys ain’t.”

Dave Cowan and Purdy exchanged a tolerant smile.  They were above arguing that outworn thesis.  Dave turned to his son.

“Anyway, Buzzer, if you ever get discouraged, remember we were all like that once, and cheer up.  Remember your ancestry goes straight back to one of those, and still back of that—­”

“To the single cell of protoplasm,” said Purdy.

“Beyond that,” said Dave, “to star dust.”

“Yes, sir,” said Wilbur.

“Foolish in the head,” said Minna.  “You think you know things better than the reverent what preaches at the Lutheran church!  He could easy enough tell you what you come from.  My family was in Bavaria more than two hundred years, and was not any monkeys.”