“Precisely,” said Doctor Trigg. “Ep-itaphs. On monuments, you know:
‘Here lieth the body of Israel Jones,
Till Judgment Day shall uncover his bones’.”
“A very poor imitative effort on your part,” said Doctor Sims caustically.
“It was just a sort of sample,” Doctor Trigg defended his effort. “I will be willing to wager one of these excellent doughnuts that these young men, collectively, have never read six epitaphs in their lives.”
“I haven’t,” confessed David, his sunny smile full on Doctor Sims’ gloomy countenance. “I bet they are interesting. You could sure get a kick out of some of them. Like collecting stamps.”
“Much more enthralling, much more appealing.” Doctor Sims pushed back his teacup and book. “It’s like this: Paleontologists have found that from the most remote antiquity—”
Doctor Trigg interrupted. “Nicholas,” he said, “it is a pity to embark on a subject of such widespread interest at so inauspicious a moment, when you will certainly be obliged to discontinue your discourse before you have voiced a tenth of your thesis. Let me advise you to reserve your dissertation for a time when these young men will have finished their duties and be free to assure you a couple of hours of uninterrupted attention.”
He looked solemnly at the reporter, who looked solemnly back.
“That would be better, doctor, if you don’t mind. I’d hate to miss it, and I’ve got to dash off pretty soon, and make out my reports.”
Doctor Sims looked almost pleased. “All right, all right, and I will get my recent additions transcribed and cataloged, and the snapshots developed.”