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
"I have come to ask you to get out, Professor Owlsdarck," I exclaimed.
"Tom can drive the horse home; we're all at Dr. Dastick's, and they've
sent me to beg you to come in."
The occupant of the vehicle, upon hearing my voice, made haste to
alight. Tom gave an expressive "Hud up," and rolled away into the
moonlight.
"My dear Sir," said I, "no apology,--no allusion to how it happened; we
have both suffered quite enough. Only tell me what you managed to do
with my poem, and what the people of Wrexford have done to you."
"What did I do with your poem?" echoed the Professor,--there was an
undertone of humorous satisfaction in his words that I had never before
remarked,--"why, what could I do with it but read it to my audience?
They thought it was capital, and----Well, _I_ thought so, too. And if
you want to know what the trustees did to me, you will find it in print
in a day or two. The fact is, they called a meeting, after I finished,
and unanimously elected me Principal of their Academy."
I managed to get a few more particulars before entering the house, and
these, with other circumstances afterwards ascertained, made the
Professor's adventure to unravel itself thus: Owlsdarck had discovered
the change of manuscript about five minutes before he was expected to
speak. The audience had assembled, and (in view of the respect which
should appertain to the office for which he was an aspirant) he saw the
humiliation of disappointing the academic flock by a confession of his
absurd position. He glanced at the first page of my verses, and, seeing
that they commenced in a grave and solemn strain, determined to run for
luck, and make the best of them. Accordingly he began by saying, that,
instead of the usual literary address, he should read a new American
poem, which he trusted would prove popular and to the purpose. It turned
out to be very much to the purpose. The dismal Professor Owlsdarck.
giving utterance to the Yankee quips and waggery which I had provided,
took his audience by storm with amazement and delight. For the truth
was, as Strype had intimated in the morning, a formidable opposition had
arrayed itself against the Professor, which (while acknowledging the
claims of his profound learning) contended that he lacked sympathy with
the merry hearts of youth, a fatal defect in the character of a teacher.
Of course the entertainment of the evening filled all such cavillers
with shame and confusion. There was nothing to do but to own their
mistake, and to support the many-sided Owlsdarck with all enthusiasm.
Hence his unanimous election, and hence my infinite relief upon
reëntering the Doctor's house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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