When Patty Went to College Part 18

"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, surrept.i.tiously 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, furnis.h.i.+ng 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 prompt.i.tude. "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 "Sat.u.r.day 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 he has carried on some very important investigations, he is the discoverer of neither the rings of Saturn nor the Milky Way.

Very truly yours, HOWARD D. PHELPS.

"It's from Professor Phelps--what can he mean?" said the Twin, in bewilderment.

"Oh, Patty," groaned Priscilla, "you don't mean to say that you actually believed all that stuff?"

"Of course I believed it. How could I know she was lying?"

"She wasn't lying. Don't use such reckless language."

"I'd like to know what you call it, then?" said Patty, angrily.

"Local color, my dear, just local color. The worm will turn, you know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" wailed Patty.

"Never supposed for a moment you believed her. Thought you were joking all the time."

"What's the matter, Patty? What have you done?" the others demanded, divided between a pardonable feeling of curiosity and a sense that they ought to retire before this domestic tragedy.

"Oh, tell them," said Patty, bitterly. "Tell every one you see. Shout it from the dome of the observatory. You might as well; it'll be all over college in a couple of hours."

Priscilla explained, and as she explained the funny side began to strike her. By the time she had finished they were all--except Patty--reduced to hysterics.

"The poor editor," gurgled Priscilla. "He's always after a scoop, and he's certainly got one this time."

"Where is it, Patty--the paper?" gasped Bonnie.

"I threw it away," said Patty, sulkily.

Priscilla rummaged it out of the waste-basket, and the four bent over it delightedly.

Ireland's eminent astronomer spending a few weeks in America lecturing at the princ.i.p.al colleges--His famous discovery of the rings of Saturn made during a balloon ascension three thousand feet in the air--Though this is his first visit to the States, he speaks with only a slight brogue--Loyal son of old Erin

"Patty, Patty! And you, of all people, to be so gullible!"

"Professor James Harkner Wallis's parents will be writing to Prexy next to say that their son can't lecture here any more if he is to be subjected to this sort of thing."

"It's disgusting!" said Bonnie Connaught, feelingly.

"When you've got through laughing, I wish you'd tell me what to do."

"Tell Professor Phelps it was a slip of the pen."

"A slip of the pen to the extent of half a column is good," said the Twin.

"I think you girls are beastly to laugh when I am probably being expelled this minute."

"Faculty meeting doesn't come till four," said Bonnie.

Patty sat down by the desk and buried her head in her arms.