"Oh, well, other lands, other customs. How about giving my boys a lesson in your American arithmetic now? Just to assure us that it is as good as you claim."
"All right. Give me a tablet." Padway scratched the numerals 1 to 9 in the wax, and explained them. "Now," he said, "this is the important part." He drew a circle. "This is our character meaning nothing."
The younger clerk scratched his head. "You mean it's a symbol without meaning? What would be the use of that?"
"I didn't say it was without meaning. It means nil, zero—what you have left when you take two away from two."
The older clerk looked skeptical. "It doesn't make sense to me. What is the use of a symbol for what does not exist?"
"You have a word for it, haven't you? Several words, in fact. And you find them useful, don't you?"
"I suppose so," said the older clerk. "But we don't use nothing in our calculations. Whoever heard of figuring the interest on a loan at no per cent? Or renting a house for no weeks?"
"Maybe," grinned the younger clerk, "the honorable sir can tell us how to make a profit on no sales—"
Padway snapped: "And we'll get through this explanation sooner with no interruptions. You'll learn the reason for the zero symbol soon enough."
It took an hour to cover the elements of addition. Then Padway said the clerks had had enough for one day; they should practice addition for a while every day until they could do it faster than by Roman numerals. Actually he was worn out. He was naturally a quick speaker, and to have to plod syllable by syllable through this foul language almost drove him crazy.