The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 68, June, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
Science
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 68, June, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
"Anything hilarious is as much out of place in a lecture as it would be
in a sermon," interrupted Dr. Dastick, who had evidently missed the
drift of his pastor's remarks. "And I rejoice that the success of our
friend who has spoken this evening rebukes those vain and shallow
witlings who have sometimes degraded the lyceum. I could send such
fellows to make sport in the courts of luxurious princes, for they may
well follow after jousts, tourneys, stage-plays, and like sugar-plums of
Satan; as, indeed, we need them not in this Puritan commonwealth. But
come, all of you, for an hour, to my house; for I am mistaken, if there
be not in my cabinet many rare illustrations of the discourse we have
just heard. I have several bones by me, which, if they belonged not to
Cheops himself, may well be relics of his near relations. And as an
offset to their dry and wasted estate, I have some luscious pears which
are just now at full maturity."
Colonel Prowley and his party had small inclination to resist the
Doctor's invitation, and it was speedily agreed that the lecturer
(having, as we have seen, escaped consignment to European monarchs)
should have the privilege of mingling in the social life of Foxden for
the next hour or so.
"But you forget Professor Owlsdarck," I ventured to whisper to the
Colonel. "I must see him the instant he returns. That is--I am very
impatient to hear of his success. I cannot let him arrive at your
house, if I am not there to meet him."
My host stared a little at this impetuosity of interest, and then
informed me that the carryall from Wrexford must necessarily pass
Dastick's house, and that he himself would run out and stop it and bring
in the Professor.
"No," I exclaimed, with energy; "promise that I may go out and receive
Owlsdarck alone, or I cannot go to Dr. Dastick's."
"I doubt if there would be any precedent for this," argued the Colonel,
gravely.
"Then we must make one," I asserted. "For surely nothing is more
appropriate than that a lecturer, returning from his exercise, whether
in triumph or defeat, should be first encountered by some brother of the
craft who can have adequate sympathy with his feelings."
After some demur, Colonel Prowley consented to adopt this view of the
case; and we passed out of the hot lecture-room into the still, fresh
night. Here Kate took my arm and we managed for an instant to lag behind
the crowd.
"I am not mad yet," I said, "though when I began that extraordinary
lecture you must have thought me so."
"For a few moments," replied my wife, "I was utterly bewildered; but
soon, of course, I guessed the explanation. You appeared before the
Foxden audience with Professor Owlsdarck's lecture."
"And he appeared with my poem before the audience in Wrexford."
"Good Heavens!" exclaimed Kate, "I never thought of that part of it!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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