Frenzied Fiction by Stephen Leacock Page A

eyes lifted in an expression of something like rapture. “In fact—ME.”

    He remained thus, motionless, without moving. We slipped gently to our hands and knees and crawled quietly to the door, and so down the stairs, our notebook in our teeth.

III—With Our Greatest Scientist

    [As seen in any of our College Laboratories]

    It was among the retorts and test tubes of his physical laboratory that we were privileged to interview the Great Scientist. His back was towards us when we entered. With characteristic modesty he kept it so for some time after our entry. Even when he turned round and saw us his face did not react off us as we should have expected.

    He seemed to look at us, if such a thing were possible, without seeing us, or, at least, without wishing to see us.

    We handed him our card.

    He took it, read it, dropped it in a bowlful of sulphuric acid and then, with a quiet gesture of satisfaction, turned again to his work.

    We sat for some time behind him. “This, then,” we thought to ourselves (we always think to ourselves when we are left alone), “is the man, or rather is the back of the man, who has done more” (here we consulted the notes given us by our editor), “to revolutionize our conception of atomic dynamics than the back of any other man.”

    Presently the Great Scientist turned towards us with a sigh that seemed to our ears to have a note of weariness in it. Something, we felt, must be making him tired.

    â€œWhat can I do for you?” he said.

    â€œProfessor,” we answered, “we have called upon you in response to an overwhelming demand on the part of the public—”

    The Great Scientist nodded.

    â€œTo learn something of your new researches and discoveries in” (here we consulted a minute card which we carried in our pocket) “in radio-active-emanations which are already becoming” (we consulted our card again) “a household word—”

    The Professor raised his hand as if to check us.

    â€œI would rather say,” he murmured, “helio-radio-active—”

    â€œSo would we,” we admitted, “much rather—”

    â€œAfter all,” said the Great Scientist, “helium shares in the most intimate degree the properties of radium. So, too, for the matter of that,” he added in afterthought, “do thorium, and borium!”

    â€œEven borium!” we exclaimed, delighted, and writing rapidly in our notebook. Already we saw ourselves writing up as our headline
Borium Shares Properties of Thorium
.

    â€œJust what is it,” said the Great Scientist, “that you want to know?”

    â€œProfessor,” we answered, “what our journal wants is a plain and simple explanation, so clear that even our readers can understand it, of the new scientific discoveries in radium. We understand that you possess, more than any other man, the gift of clear and lucid thought—”

    The Professor nodded.

    â€œAnd that you are able to express yourself with greater simplicity than any two men now lecturing.”

    The Professor nodded again.

    â€œNow, then,” we said, spreading our notes on our knee, “go at it. Tell us, and, through us, tell a quarter of a million anxious readers just what all these new discoveries are about.”

    â€œThe whole thing,” said the Professor, warming up to his work as he perceived from the motions of our face and ears our intelligent interest, “is simplicity itself. I can give it to you in a word—”

    â€œThat’s it,” we said. “Give it to us that way.”

    â€œIt amounts, if one may boil it down into a phrase—”

    â€œBoil it, boil it,” we interrupted.

    â€œAmounts, if one takes the mere gist of it—”

    â€œTake it,” we said, “take it.”

    â€œAmounts to the resolution of the ultimate atom.”

    â€œHa!” we exclaimed.

    â€œI must