“I’ve been directing my attention to the moon,” said Thud sententiously, laying down the knife and fork which he had been diligently plying.
“No doubt the moon is flattered by the attention shown to her. Ha! ha! ha! I am not surprised at your thoughts being turned in a lunatic direction. How often have you seen the new moon rise in the east?”
“Often,” replied Thud, looking surprised at the question.
“Clever dog! you have then seen what no one else ever saw!” cried the doctor.
“You don’t mean to say that the moon ever rises in the west!” cried Thucydides Thorn, which set the doctor off laughing again. When he had recovered his gravity, Pinfold resumed his questioning.
“May I ask what discoveries you have made in the lunatic direction?”
“I’ve made no decided discoveries yet,” replied Thud; “but a theory is gradually developing itself in my brain.”
“Ah! that brain. It will have some day to be put into spirits and deposited in a museum!” cried the doctor.
“I’ve no objection,” said the young philosopher, who was rather gratified by the idea; “but it must be after I’m dead.”
This gave the doctor another uproarious fit of mirth, which almost occasioned a choke.