Bird-in-Hand. What? What? What? What? What?
Professor. No, no, a blood-vessel!—But do come immediately!—Yes. Don’t lose a moment, I beg—Good-bye——
Bird-in-Hand. Sh-sh-sh-wee! Sh-sh—sh-wee!—Oh, why?—Oh, why?—Oh, why?—Spit-it-out! Spit-it-out!
(The Professor with a gorgonized stare has been trying to rule the thing out; now by a firm effort of will he seeks to dismiss it from his mind.)
Professor. No, no, it’s not there! I don’t see it, I don’t see it, I don’t see it. I——
(But he does see it; that’s the trouble. It advances its head slowly towards him, then draws it back again, and with a more cheerful note than before, as if to encourage him, remarks:)
Bird-in-Hand. Che-wit!
(At this the Professor shuts his eyes, and continues to exercise his will-power, under conditions which make the assertion more tenable.)
Professor. I don’t see it and I won’t see it! I won’t see it!—I—I dismiss it entirely from my mind. It isn’t there! (While he is thus tackling the problem the creature shifts its position, and now standing at his back, views him from a fresh standpoint with the same blank stare of a curiosity that comprehends nothing. The Professor opens his eyes again. Will-power has apparently prevailed. He no longer sees the object of his aversion) That’s better! (He begins cautiously to turn his head first to right then to left. It gives him a great start to find the green horned creature close behind him. This is too much like having a caterpillar down his back for equanimity. Irrepressibly he jumps up)
Professor. Get out!