Part 58

"'I'll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes,'" muttered George, quoting the words of Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"Now, if six yards were added to the length of the girdle, what would then be the distance between the girdle and the earth, supposing that distance to be equal all round?"

"In such a great length," said Mr. Allgood, "I do not suppose the distance would be worth mentioning."

"What do you say, George?" asked Mr. Smoothly.

"Well, without calculating I should imagine it would be a very minute fraction of an inch."

Reginald and Mr. Filkins were of the same opinion.

"I think it will surprise you all," said the curate, "to learn that those extra six yards would make the distance from the earth all round the girdle very nearly a yard!"

"Very nearly a yard!" everybody exclaimed, with astonishment; but Mr. Smoothly was quite correct. The increase is independent of the original length of the girdle, which may be round the earth or round an orange; in any case the additional six yards will give a distance of nearly a yard all round. This is apt to surprise the non-mathematical mind.

"Did you hear the story of the extraordinary precocity of Mrs. Perkins's baby that died last week?" asked Mrs. Allgood. "It was only three months old, and lying at the point of death, when the grief-stricken mother asked the doctor if nothing could save it. 'Absolutely nothing!' said the doctor. Then the infant looked up pitifully into its mother's face and said--absolutely nothing!"

"Impossible!" insisted Mildred. "And only three months old!"

"There have been extraordinary cases of infantile precocity," said Mr. Filkins, "the truth of which has often been carefully attested. But are you sure this really happened, Mrs. Allgood?"

"Positive," replied the lady. "But do you really think it astonishing that a child of three months should say absolutely nothing? What would you expect it to say?"

"Speaking of death," said Mr. Smoothly, solemnly, "I knew two men, father and son, who died in the same battle during the South African War. They were both named Andrew Johnson and buried side by side, but there was some difficulty in distinguishing them on the headstones. What would you have done?"

"Quite simple," said Mr. Allgood. "They should have described one as 'Andrew Johnson, Senior,' and the other as 'Andrew Johnson, Junior.'"

"But I forgot to tell you that the father died first."

"What difference can that make?"

"Well, you see, they wanted to be absolutely exact, and that was the difficulty."

"But I don't see any difficulty," said Mr. Allgood, nor could anybody else.

"Well," explained Mr. Smoothly, "it is like this. If the father died first, the son was then no longer 'Junior.' Is that so?"

"To be strictly exact, yes."

"That is just what they wanted--to be strictly exact. Now, if he was no longer 'Junior,' then he did not die 'Junior." Consequently it must be incorrect so to describe him on the headstone. Do you see the point?"

"Here is a rather curious thing," said Mr. Filkins, "that I have just remembered. A man wrote to me the other day that he had recently discovered two old coins while digging in his garden. One was dated '51 B.C.,' and the other one marked 'George I.' How do I know that he was not writing the truth?"

"Perhaps you know the man to be addicted to lying," said Reginald.

"But that would be no proof that he was not telling the truth in this instance."

"Perhaps," suggested Mildred, "you know that there were no coins made at those dates.

"On the contrary, they were made at both periods."

"Were they silver or copper coins?" asked Willie.

"My friend did not state, and I really cannot see, Willie, that it makes any difference."