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
"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
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