On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. \"Where have you been, young lady?\" Mike crooned, a large grin on his fat Irish face. But the influence of the science radiated far beyond its own special field— beyond those beautiful but highly technical problems with which we do not propose for a moment to trouble the naturally terrified reader.
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