THE PROFESSOR’S LECTURE.
“In Science—in fact, in most things—it is usually best _to begin at the
beginning_. In _some_ things, of course, it’s better to begin at the
_other_ end. For instance, if you wanted to paint a dog green, it
_might_ be best to begin with the _tail_, as it doesn’t bite at _that_
end. And so——”
“May _I_ help oo?” Bruno interrupted.
“Help me to do _what_?” said the puzzled Professor, looking up for a
moment, but keeping his finger on the book he was reading from, so as
not to lose his place.
“To paint a dog green!” cried Bruno. “_Oo_ can begin wiz its _mouf_, and
I’ll——”
“No, no!” said the Professor. “We haven’t got to the _Experiments_ yet.
And so,” returning to his note-book, “I’ll give you the Axioms of
Science. After that I shall exhibit some Specimens. Then I shall explain
a Process or two. And I shall conclude with a few Experiments. An
_Axiom_, you know, is a thing that you accept without contradiction. For
instance, if I were to say ‘Here we are!’, that would be accepted
without any contradiction, and it’s a nice sort of remark to _begin_ a
conversation with. So it would be an _Axiom_. Or again, supposing I were
to say ‘Here we are not!’ _that_ would be——”
“—a fib!” cried Bruno.
“Oh, _Bruno_!” said Sylvie in a warning whisper. “Of course it would be
an _Axiom_, if the Professor said it!”
“—that would be accepted, if people were civil,” continued the
Professor; “so it would be _another_ Axiom.”
“It _might_ be an Axledum,” Bruno said: “but it wouldn’t be _true_!”
“Ignorance of Axioms,” the Lecturer continued, “is a great drawback in
life. It wastes so much time to have to say them over and over again.
For instance, take the Axiom ‘_Nothing is greater than itself_’; that
is, ‘_Nothing can contain itself_.’ How often you hear people say ‘He
was so excited, he was quite unable to contain himself,’ Why, _of
course_ he was unable! The _excitement_ had nothing to do with it!”
“I say, look here, you know!” said the Emperor, who was getting a little
restless. “How many Axioms are you going to give us? At _this_ rate, we
sha’n’t get to the _Experiments_ till to-morrow-week!”
“Oh, sooner than _that_, I assure you!” the Professor replied, looking
up in alarm. “There are only,” (he referred to his notes again) “only
_two_ more, that are really _necessary_.”
“Read ’em out, and get on to the _Specimens_,” grumbled the Emperor.
“The _First_ Axiom,” the Professor read out in a great hurry, “consists
of these words, ‘_Whatever is, is_.’ And the Second consists of _these_
words, ‘_Whatever isn’t, isn’t_.’ We will now go on to the _Specimens_.
The first tray contains Crystals and other Things.” He drew it towards
him, and again referred to his note-book. “Some of the labels—owing to
insufficient adhesion——” Here he stopped again, and carefully examined
the page with his eyeglass. “I ca’n’t quite read the rest of the
sentence,” he said at last, “but it _means_ that the labels have come
loose, and the Things have got mixed——”
“Let _me_ stick ’em on again!” cried Bruno eagerly, and began licking
them, like postage-stamps, and dabbing them down upon the Crystals and
the other Things. But the Professor hastily moved the tray out of his
reach. “They _might_ get fixed to the _wrong_ Specimens, you know!” he
said.
“Oo shouldn’t have any _wrong_ peppermints in the tray!” Bruno boldly
replied. “_Should_ he, Sylvie?”
But Sylvie only shook her head.
The Professor heard him not. He had taken up one of the bottles, and was
carefully reading the label through his eye-glass. “Our first
Specimen——” he announced, as he placed the bottle in front of the other
Things, “is—that is, it is called——” here he took it up, and examined
the label again, as if he thought it might have changed since he last
saw it, “is called Aqua Pura—common water—the fluid that cheers——”
“Hip! Hip! Hip!” the Head-Cook began enthusiastically.
“—but _not_ inebriates!” the Professor went on quickly, but only just in
time to check the “Hooroar!” which was beginning.
“Our second Specimen,” he went on, carefully opening a small jar, “is——”
here he removed the lid, and a large beetle instantly darted out, and
with an angry buzz went straight out of the Pavilion, “—is—or rather, I
should say,” looking sadly into the empty jar, “it _was_—a curious kind
of Blue Beetle. Did any one happen to remark—as it went past—three blue
spots under each wing?”
Nobody had remarked them.
“Ah, well!” the Professor said with a sigh. “It’s a pity. Unless you
remark that kind of thing _at the moment_, it’s very apt to get
overlooked! The _next_ Specimen, at any rate, will not fly away! It
is—in short, or perhaps, more correctly, at _length_—an _Elephant_. You
will observe——.” Here he beckoned to the Gardener to come up on the
platform, and with his help began putting together what looked like an
enormous dog-kennel, with short tubes projecting out of it on both
sides.
“But we’ve seen _Elephants_ before,” the Emperor grumbled.
“Yes, but not through a _Megaloscope_!” the Professor eagerly replied.
“You know you can’t see a _Flea_, properly, without a
_magnifying_-glass—what we call a _Microscope_. Well, just in the same
way, you ca’n’t see an _Elephant_, properly, without a
_minimifying_-glass. There’s one in each of these little tubes. And
_this_ is a _Megaloscope_! The Gardener will now bring in the next
Specimen. Please open _both_ curtains, down at the end there, and make
way for the Elephant!”
There was a general rush to the sides of the Pavilion, and all eyes were
turned to the open end, watching for the return of the Gardener, who had
gone away singing “_He thought he saw an Elephant That practised on a
Fife!_” There was silence for a minute: and then his harsh voice was
heard again in the distance. “_He looked again_—come up, then! _He
looked again, and found it was_—woa back! _and, found it was A letter
from his_—make way there! He’s a-coming!”
[Illustration: ‘HE THOUGHT HE SAW AN ELEPHANT’]
And in marched, or waddled—it is hard to say which is the right word—an
Elephant, on its hind-legs, and playing on an enormous fife which it
held with its fore-feet.
The Professor hastily threw open a large door at the end of the
Megaloscope, and the huge animal, at a signal from the Gardener, dropped
the fife, and obediently trotted into the machine, the door of which was
at once shut by the Professor. “The Specimen is now ready for
observation!” he proclaimed. “It is exactly the size of the Common
Mouse—_Mus Communis_!”
There was a general rush to the tubes, and the spectators watched with
delight the minikin creature, as it playfully coiled its trunk round the
Professor’s extended finger, finally taking its stand upon the palm of
his hand, while he carefully lifted it out, and carried it off to
exhibit to the Imperial party.
“Isn’t it a _darling_?” cried Bruno. “May I stroke it, please? I’ll
touch it _welly_ gently!”
The Empress inspected it solemnly with her eye-glass. “It is very
small,” she said in a deep voice. “Smaller than elephants usually are, I
believe?”
The Professor gave a start of delighted surprise. “Why, that’s _true_!”
he murmured to himself. Then louder, turning to the audience, “Her
Imperial Highness has made a remark which is perfectly sensible!” And a
wild cheer arose from that vast multitude.
“The next Specimen,” the Professor proclaimed, after carefully placing
the little Elephant in the tray, among the Crystals and other Things,
“is a _Flea_, which we will enlarge for the purposes of observation.”
Taking a small pill-box from the tray, he advanced to the Megaloscope,
and reversed all the tubes. “The Specimen is ready!” he cried, with his
eye at one of the tubes, while he carefully emptied the pill-box through
a little hole at the side. “It is now the size of the Common
Horse—_Equus Communis_!”
There was another general rush, to look through the tubes, and the
Pavilion rang with shouts of delight, through which the Professor’s
anxious tones could scarcely be heard. “Keep the door of the Microscope
_shut_!” he cried. “If the creature were to escape, _this size_, it
would——” But the mischief was done. The door had swung open, and in
another moment the Monster had got out, and was trampling down the
terrified, shrieking spectators.
But the Professor’s presence of mind did not desert him. “Undraw those
curtains!” he shouted. It was done. The Monster gathered its legs
together, and in one tremendous bound vanished into the sky.
“Where _is_ it?” said the Emperor, rubbing his eyes.
“In the next Province, I fancy,” the Professor replied. “That jump would
take it at _least_ five miles! The next thing is to explain a Process or
two. But I find there is hardly room enough to operate—the smaller
animal is rather in my way——”
“Who does he mean?” Bruno whispered to Sylvie.
“He means _you_!” Sylvie whispered back. “Hush!”
“Be kind enough to move—angularly—to _this_ corner,” the Professor said,
addressing himself to Bruno.
Bruno hastily moved his chair in the direction indicated. “Did I move
angrily enough?” he inquired. But the Professor was once more absorbed
in his Lecture, which he was reading from his note-book.
“I will now explain the Process of—the name is blotted, I’m sorry to
say. It will be illustrated by a number of—of——” here he examined the
page for some time, and at last said “It seems to be either
‘Experiments’ or ‘Specimens’——”
“Let it be _Experiments_,” said the Emperor. “We’ve seen plenty of
_Specimens_.”
“Certainly, certainly!” the Professor assented. “We will have some
Experiments.”
“May _I_ do them?” Bruno eagerly asked.
“Oh dear no!” The Professor looked dismayed. “I really don’t know what
would happen if _you_ did them!”
“Nor nobody doosn’t know what’ll happen if _oo_ doos them!” Bruno
retorted.
“Our First Experiment requires a Machine. It has two knobs—only
_two_—you can count them, if you like.”
The Head-Cook stepped forwards, counted them, and retired satisfied.
“Now you _might_ press those two knobs together—but that’s not the way
to do it. Or you _might_ turn the Machine upside-down—but _that’s_ not
the way to do it!”
“What _are_ the way to do it?” said Bruno, who was listening very
attentively.
The Professor smiled benignantly. “Ah, yes!” he said, in a voice like
the heading of a chapter. “The Way To Do It! Permit me!” and in a moment
he had whisked Bruno upon the table. “I divide my subject,” he began,
“into three parts——”
“I think I’ll get down!” Bruno whispered to Sylvie. “It aren’t nice to
be divided!”
“He hasn’t got a knife, silly boy!” Sylvie whispered in reply. “Stand
still! You’ll break all the bottles!”
“The first part is to take hold of the knobs,” putting them into Bruno’s
hands. “The second part is——” Here he turned the handle, and, with a
loud “Oh!”, Bruno dropped both the knobs, and began rubbing his elbows.
The Professor chuckled in delight. “It had a sensible effect. _Hadn’t_
it?” he enquired.
“No, it hadn’t a _sensible_ effect!” Bruno said indignantly. “It were
very silly indeed. It jingled my elbows, and it banged my back, and it
crinkled my hair, and it buzzed among my bones!”
“I’m sure it _didn’t_!” said Sylvie. “You’re only inventing!”
“Oo doosn’t know nuffin about it!” Bruno replied. “Oo wasn’t there to
see. Nobody ca’n’t go among my bones. There isn’t room!”
“Our Second Experiment,” the Professor announced, as Bruno returned to
his place, still thoughtfully rubbing his elbows, “is the production of
that seldom-seen-but-greatly-to-be-admired phenomenon, Black Light! You
have seen White Light, Red Light, Green Light, and so on: but never,
till this wonderful day, have any eyes but mine seen _Black Light_! This
box,” carefully lifting it upon the table, and covering it with a heap
of blankets, “is quite full of it. The way I made it was this—I took a
lighted candle into a dark cupboard and shut the door. Of course the
cupboard was then full of _Yellow_ Light. Then I took a bottle of Black
ink, and poured it over the candle: and, to my delight, every atom of
the Yellow Light turned _Black_! That was indeed the proudest moment of
my life! Then I filled a box with it. And now—would any one like to get
under the blankets and see it?”
Dead silence followed this appeal: but at last Bruno said “_I’ll_ get
under, if it won’t jingle my elbows.”
Satisfied on this point, Bruno crawled under the blankets, and, after a
minute or two, crawled out again, very hot and dusty, and with his hair
in the wildest confusion.
“What did you see in the box?” Sylvie eagerly enquired.
“I saw _nuffin_!” Bruno sadly replied. “It were too dark!”
“He has described the appearance of the thing exactly!” the Professor
exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Black Light, and Nothing, look so extremely
alike, at first sight, that I don’t wonder he failed to distinguish
them! We will now proceed to the Third Experiment.”
The Professor came down, and led the way to where a post had been driven
firmly into the ground. To one side of the post was fastened a chain,
with an iron weight hooked on to the end of it, and from the other side
projected a piece of whalebone, with a ring at the end of it. “This is a
_most_ interesting Experiment!” the Professor announced. “It will need
_time_, I’m afraid: but that is a trifling disadvantage. Now observe. If
I were to unhook this weight, and let go, it would fall to the ground.
You do not deny _that_?”
Nobody denied it.
“And in the same way, if I were to bend this piece of whalebone round
the post—thus—and put the ring over this hook—thus—it stays bent: but,
if I unhook it, it straightens itself again. You do not deny _that_?”
Again, nobody denied it.
“Well, now, suppose we left things just as they are, for a long time.
The force of the _whalebone_ would get exhausted, you know, and it would
stay bent, even when you unhooked it. Now, _why_ shouldn’t the same
thing happen with the _weight_? The _whalebone_ gets so used to being
bent, that it ca’n’t _straighten_ itself any more. Why shouldn’t the
_weight_ get so used to being held up, that it ca’n’t _fall_ any more?
That’s what _I_ want to know!”
“That’s what _we_ want to know!” echoed the crowd.
“How long must we wait?” grumbled the Emperor.
The Professor looked at his watch. “Well, I _think_ a thousand years
will do to _begin_ with,” he said. “Then we will cautiously unhook the
weight: and, if it _still_ shows (as perhaps it will) a _slight_
tendency to fall, we will hook it on to the chain again, and leave it
for _another_ thousand years.”
Here the Empress experienced one of those flashes of Common Sense which
were the surprise of all around her. “Meanwhile there’ll be time for
another Experiment,” she said.
“There will _indeed_!” cried the delighted Professor. “Let us return to
the platform, and proceed to the _Fourth_ Experiment!”
“For this concluding Experiment, I will take a certain Alkali, or Acid—I
forget which. Now you’ll see what will happen when I mix it with Some——”
here he took up a bottle, and looked at it doubtfully, “—when I mix it
with—with Something——”
Here the Emperor interrupted. “What’s the _name_ of the stuff?” he
asked.
“I don’t remember the _name_,” said the Professor: “and the label has
come off.” He emptied it quickly into the other bottle, and, with a
tremendous bang, both bottles flew to pieces, upsetting all the
machines, and filling the Pavilion with thick black smoke. I sprang to
my feet in terror, and—and found myself standing before my solitary
hearth, where the poker, dropping at last from the hand of the sleeper,
had knocked over the tongs and the shovel, and had upset the kettle,
filling the air with clouds of steam. With a weary sigh, I betook myself
to bed.
[Illustration: AN EXPLOSION]