"Dublin, Ireland?" asked Patty, in some surprise. "I could have sworn
that it was in California. Are you sure you know where it is, Lucille?"
"Of course I'm sure. Haven't we been having it for three days steady?
California! You must be crazy, Patty. I think you'd better elect
astronomy."
"I know it," said Patty, meekly. "I was going to, but I heard that it
was terribly hard, and I thought senior year you have a right to take
something a little easy. But, you know, that's the funniest thing about
the Lick Observatory, for I really know a lot about it--read an article
on it just a little while ago; and I don't know how I got the
impression, but I was almost sure it was in the United States. It just
shows that you can never be sure of anything."
"No," said Lucille; "it isn't safe."
"Is it connected with Dublin University?" asked Patty.
"I believe so," said Lucille.
"And this astronomy person," continued Patty, warming to her work--"I
suppose he's an Irishman, then."
"Of course," said Lucille. "He's very noted."
"What's he done?" asked Patty. "It said on the bulletin-board he'd made
some important discoveries. I suppose, though, they're frightful
technicalities that no one ever heard of."
"Well," said Lucille, considering, "he discovered the rings of Saturn
and the Milky Way."
"The rings of Saturn! Why, I thought those had been discovered _ages_
ago. He must be a terribly old man. I remember reading about them when
I was an infant in arms."
"It was a good while ago," said Lucille. "Eight or nine years, at
least."
"And the Milky Way!" continued Patty, with a show of incredulity. "I
don't see how people could have helped discovering that long ago. I
could have done it myself, and I don't pretend to know anything about
astronomy."
"Oh, of course," Lucille hastened to explain, "the phenomenon had been
observed before, but had never been accounted for."
"I see," said Patty, surreptitiously taking notes. "He must really be an
awfully important man. How did he happen to do all this?"
"He went up in a balloon," said Lucille, vaguely.
"A balloon! What fun!" exclaimed Patty, her reportorial instinct waking
to the scent. "They use balloons a lot more in Europe than they do
here."
"I believe he has his balloon with him here in America," said Lucille.
"He never travels without it."
"What's the good of it?" inquired Patty. "I suppose," she continued,
furnishing her own explanation, "it gets him such a lot nearer to the
stars."
"That's without doubt the reason," said Lucille.
"I wish he'd send it up here," sighed Patty. "Do you know any more
interesting details about him?"
"N--no," said Lucille; "I can't think of any more at present."
"He's certainly the most interesting professor I ever heard of," said
Patty, "and it's strange I never heard of him before."
"There seem to be a good many things you have never heard of," observed
Lucille.
"Yes," acknowledged Patty; "there are."
"Well, Patty," said Priscilla, emerging from the discussion on the other
side of the room, "if you're going to dinner with me, you'd better stop
fooling with Lucille, and go home and get your work done."
"Very well," said Patty, rising with obliging promptitude. "Good-by,
girls. Come and see me and I'll give you some fudge that's done. Thank
you for the information," she called back to Lucille.
* * * * *
THE Monday afternoon following, Patty and Priscilla, with two or three
other girls, came strolling back from the lake, jingling their skates
over their arms.
"Come in, girls, and have some hot tea," said Priscilla, as they reached
the study door.
"Here's a note for Patty," said Bonnie Connaught, picking up an envelop
from the table. "Terribly official-looking. Must have come in the
college mail. Open it, Patty, and let's see what you've flunked."
"Dear me!" said Patty, "I thought that was a habit I'd outgrown freshman
year."
They crowded around and read the note over her shoulder. Patty had no
secrets.
THE OBSERVATORY, January 20.
Miss Patty Wyatt.
DEAR MISS WYATT: I am informed that you are the
correspondent for the "Saturday Evening
Post-Despatch," and I take the liberty of calling
your attention to a rather grave error which
occurred in last week's issue. You stated that the
Lick Observatory is in Dublin, Ireland, while, as
is a matter of general information, it is situated
near San Francisco, California. Professor James
Harkner Wallis is not an Irishman; he is an
American. Though he has carried on some very
important investigations, he is the discoverer of
neither the rings of Saturn nor the Milky Way.
Very truly yours,
HOWARD D. PHELPS.
"It's from Professor Phelps--what can he mean?" said the Twin, in
bewilderment.
"Oh, Patty," groaned Priscilla, "you don't mean to say that you actually
believed all that stuff?"
"Of course I believed it. How could I know she was lying?"
"She wasn't lying. Don't use such reckless language."
"I'd like to know what you call it, then?" said Patty, angrily.
"Local color, my dear, just local color. The worm will turn, you know."
"Why didn't you tell me?" wailed Patty.
"Never supposed for a moment you believed her. Thought you were joking
all the time."
"What's the matter, Patty? What have you done?" the others demanded,
divided between a pardonable feeling of curiosity and a sense that they
ought to retire before this domestic tragedy.
"Oh, tell them," said Patty, bitterly. "Tell every one you see. Shout it
from the dome of the observatory. You might as well; it'll be all over
college in a couple of hours."
Priscilla explained, and as she explained the funny side began to strike
her. By the time she had finished they were all--except Patty--reduced
to hysterics.
"The poor editor," gurgled Priscilla. "He's always after a scoop, and
he's certainly got one this time."
"Where is it, Patty--the paper?" gasped Bonnie.
"I threw it away," said Patty, sulkily.
Priscilla rummaged it out of the waste-basket, and the four bent over it
delightedly.
Ireland's eminent astronomer spending a few weeks
in America lecturing at the principal
colleges--His famous discovery of the rings of
Saturn made during a balloon ascension three
thousand feet in the air--Though this is his first
visit to the States, he speaks with only a slight
brogue--Loyal son of old Erin
"Patty, Patty! And you, of all people, to be so gullible!"
"Professor James Harkner Wallis's parents will be writing to Prexy next
to say that their son can't lecture here any more if he is to be
subjected to this sort of thing."
"It's disgusting!" said Bonnie Connaught, feelingly.
"When you've got through laughing, I wish you'd tell me what to do."
"Tell Professor Phelps it was a slip of the pen."
"A slip of the pen to the extent of half a column is good," said the
Twin.
"I think you girls are beastly to laugh when I am probably being
expelled this minute."
"Faculty meeting doesn't come till four," said Bonnie.
Patty sat down by the desk and buried her head in her arms.
"Patty," said Priscilla, "you aren't crying, are you?"
"No," said Patty, savagely; "I'm thinking."
"You will never think of anything that will explain that."
Patty looked up with the air of one who has received an inspiration.
"I'm going to tell him the truth."
"Don't do anything so rash," pleaded the Twin.
"That is, of course, the only thing you can do," said Priscilla. "Sit
down and write him a note, and I'll promise not to laugh till you get
through."