“Just a moment,” he interrupted finally. “You say that a stream of mucilaginous substance—something like that—came from the slug, and that it let itself down to the ground by means of it?”
“Yes, sir,” said Joshua. “It’s just the color o’ tapioca puddin’.”
“Well, well, well! I never knew that before. Go on! Go on! Tell me about the experiment with the razor.”
Joshua began it, but was once more interrupted. Clegg’s tones were eager as he spoke, and Joshua marveled not a little at his interest.
“The entire under side of a slug or a snail, Joshua,” he said, “comprises a walking surface. One might term his whole belly a foot. This walking surface clings to one side of the razor blade, as the slug extends its fore part and bends down over the other side. He is not crawling upon the sharp part at all, you see, but it appears as if he is doing so. Where did you learn about all this?”
“Aw, I’m always monkeyin’ ’round with somethin’ like that,” said Joshua. “I kinda like it. I’m gonta be a scientist some day. But they wouldn’t let me do anythin’ at school. I got a dandy collection o’ birds’ eggs, and a lot o’ bugs and pressed leaves, and snakes in alcohol.”
“A scientist, eh? And what branch do you prefer?”
“I ain’t just sure yet. I like all of it that I’ve read about. But I guess I like astronomy more’n anythin’.”
Clegg’s eyes grew darker. “Astronomy—yes, yes! And what do you know about astronomy, Joshua?”
“Not much. But I’ve read some books. And I c’n pick out a lotta stars and planets easy, and I know what their names are an’ everything like that.”