“Did the rabbit go, after oo wounded it up?” said Bruno.
The Professor clasped his hands on the top of his head, and groaned. “Go? I should think it did go! Why, it's gone? And where ever it's gone to—that's what I ca'n't find out! I've done my best—I've read all the article 'Rabbit' in the great dictionary—Come in!”
“Only the tailor, Sir, with your little bill,” said a meek voice outside the door.
“Ah, well, I can soon settle his business,” the Professor said to the children, “if you'll just wait a minute. How much is it, this year, my man?” The tailor had come in while he was speaking.
“Well, it's been a doubling so many years, you see,” the tailor replied, a little gruffly, “and I think I'd like the money now. It's two thousand pound, it is!”
“Oh, that's nothing!” the Professor carelessly remarked, feeling in his pocket, as if he always carried at least that amount about with him. “But wouldn't you like to wait just another year, and make it four thousand? Just think how rich you'd be! Why, you might be a King, if you liked!”
“I don't know as I'd care about being a King,” the man said thoughtfully. “But it dew sound a powerful sight o' money! Well, I think I'll wait—”
“Of course you will!” said the Professor. “There's good sense in you, I see. Good-day to you, my man!”
“Will you ever have to pay him that four thousand pounds?” Sylvie asked as the door closed on the departing creditor.
“Never, my child!” the Professor replied emphatically. “He'll go on doubling it, till he dies. You see it's always worth while waiting another year, to get twice as much money! And now what would you like to do, my little friends? Shall I take you to see the Other Professor? This would be an excellent opportunity for a visit,” he said to himself, glancing at his watch: “he generally takes a short rest—of fourteen minutes and a half—about this time.”