“I now see, too,” added Tom, “why the ball seldom flies off at the same angle in every trap.”
“That,” said his father, “must of course depend upon the extent of the arc described by the spoon, and which will of course vary in different traps.”
“Before we conclude the subject, let me ask you whether there is not some one point in the bat, at which you can most effectually strike the ball?”
“To be sure,” answered Tom, “in the same way tha there is a point in my hoop-stick at which I can give the strongest blow--and that point is termed the Centre of Percussion.”
“Enough,” said Mr. Seymour; “see, here comes the vicar.”
True to the hour appointed, did Mr. Twaddleton make his appearance, just at the conclusion of the discussion above described; and, as he approached the party, Louisa observed that he was carrying a canvass bag in his hand.
“What have you there?” asked Mr. Seymour. “A sack of sugar-plums?”
“No, no; spheres of larger diameter. Here,” said the vicar, as he opened his bag, “is a foot-ball for you, Tom; and here is a hand-ball for you, Louisa.” He then presented each of the other children with a similar present, exclaiming--
‘Nemo ex hoc numero mihi non donatus abibit.’[[26]]
as Virgil has it.”