The scientist was distinctly pleased with the lad’s work and reverted to it more than once in the course of the day. At the same time, the genuine scientific interest shown by the professor in the Pteranodon was grateful to the old merchant, who, as he said himself, had bought the bones “on faith.”
The third day of Dr. Hunt’s visit, at dinner, the scientist turned to his nephew and said quite unexpectedly:
“Perry, do you know the famous poem about the Eohippus?”
“No, Uncle George,” the boy replied. “I don’t believe I do.”
“You are acquainted with our little friend, the Eohippus, I suppose?”
Perry grinned.
“In books and in bones,” he said, “but I haven’t ever met him in real life.”
Then, for he never missed an opportunity of trying to persuade his uncle to take him on another expedition, he added:
“I’d be awfully glad to meet him, though, Uncle George, if you’re going to pay him a visit.”
“I am,” the scientist replied. “But if you don’t know that little bit of verse, which was written by a clever and quite well-known woman after a visit to our New York Museum, part of your education as a paleontologist has been seriously neglected, and I’m going to make up for that neglect at once.” And, without further preamble, he began: