THE
PETERIT E1 VOL. III .
JULY, 1881 .
No . 22.
THE PROFESSOR. l)uis te, juvenum confidentissime, nostras. Jussit adire domos.
CI-IAPTER I.
HE Professor sat on a high stool, lost in deep thought . If
T the imagination of readers will carry them back to the year
1981, they will see him—a little old man, with high intellectual forehead, and silvery hair, a singular modesty apparent in all his looks and gestures : yet with all there was a something about the Professor which baffled at once curiosity and familiarity, a hungering of insatiable curiosity in his eyes ; and yet not curiosity precisely, but the sort of look we might imagine in one of the wizards of the dark ages, betokening at once a past buried in mystery which no fellow-creature could fathom, and a fixed gazing at some object in futurity too far distant for mortal ken : he seemed to see through the outer coating of your bodily habiliments, and dissect you with his eyes . You could not like the Professor. The electric light shed through its thick softening globe of glass a light which threw the features of his face into strong relief, and what a tale could be read in those furrows and wrinkles ! Strange it is that with such a general uniformity of make in the human face, there should after all be such variety of expression, that so few materials should be capable of being combined into such a copious language .