“We had stopped. Here was Agassiz’s house; and without taking time to pick up the eggs that were scattered, I jumped out with my pail and pounded at the door.
“No one was astir in the house. But I would stir some one. And I did. Right in the midst of the racket the door opened. It was the maid.
“‘Agassiz,’ I gasped, ‘I want Professor Agassiz, quick!’ And I pushed by her into the hall.
“‘Go ’way, sir. I’ll call the police. Professor Agassiz is in bed. Go ’way, sir!’
“‘Call him—Agassiz—instantly, or I’ll call him myself.’
“But I didn’t; for just then a door overhead was flung open, a great white-robed figure appeared on the dim landing above, and a quick loud voice called excitedly,—
“‘Let him in! Let him in. I know him. He has my turtle eggs!’
“And the apparition, slipperless, and clad in anything but an academic gown, came sailing down the stairs.
“The maid fled. The great man, his arms extended, laid hold of me with both hands, and dragging me and my precious pail into his study, with a swift, clean stroke laid open one of the eggs, as the watch in my trembling hands ticked its way to seven—as if nothing unusual were happening to the history of the world.”