"You forget the observations with which I prefaced the reading of the manuscript," said Toney. "This is only the first chapter of what is intended to be a very voluminous work. It is true that M. T. Pate has not yet reached the goal designated, but long before I have written the concluding portion of his biography I am confident that you will behold him on the very pinnacle of the temple of fame."
"Toney is a prophet," said Tom. "He truly predicted what has since happened to the two young ladies and their lovers who have gone to the Mexican war."
"Poor Claribel!" said Toney. "I sincerely wish that my vaticinations had not been verified."
"Pooh! pooh!" said the Professor. "Their lovers have taken wing and flown away, but they will come back little turtle-doves in the spring, and then, after a little billing and cooing, you will see two pretty pairs building their nests. And besides, although love is a disease which is supposed to attack the heart, it is seldom fatal in its results."
"Is it not?" said Tom.
"Why, no," said the Professor. "Dora jilted me, and am I dead? Ecce homo! fat and flourishing, and the founder of the sect of Funny Philosophers."
"I would really like to know the condition of Claribel's health," said Toney.
"It had much improved when I called and made inquiry this morning," said Tom. "But I thought that I was about to witness war and bloodshed in the house."
"How so?" asked Toney.