“Course he had.”
“Why, the compass wasn’t known till the fourteenth century. Flavio Gioja, of Amalfi, is the one that they say invented it.”
“So that’s what they teach you over there at the Academy—is it?” said Captain Corbet with a look that would have been one of scorn if it hadn’t been so full of pity. “So that’s what they teach—is it? Wal! wall wal! If I ever! I never did! However, I’ll show you at once what’s the wuth, the terew wuth, of your lamin’, when it’s put fair an’ square in opposition to facts. Look here now, an’ listen, an’ don’t forget. In the account of that vyge, it says distindtly, ‘So we fetched-a compass.’ What have you got to say to that, now? hey?”
And Captain Corbet drew himself up, and watched the effect of this startling piece of intelligence.
Upon Bart the effect was instantaneous, though not of the kind which Captain Corbet expected. A light broke in upon his mind, and a smile burst forth, and spread like sunshine over his lately puzzled face. He said nothing for some time, but looked away so as to take in the full flavor of what he considered so good a thing.
“O, yes,” said he at last. “I see. I understand. I never thought of that before. I must let the fellows know I’ll tell them all at school, from Dr. Porter down to the smallest boy in the primary department. And I’ll let them all know that it was you that told me. They’ve all got an idea that it was invented either by the Arabs, or the Greeks, or the Italians; but now they shall hear Captain Corbet’s theory.”
“Yes—do—do,” said-Captain Corbet, eagerly.