'Of a glass bottle!' interrupted the professor somewhat rudely, and the divine laughed.
'No. Of deathless ether, doomed.'
'And that reminds me,' said the professor, turning hastily, 'I must examine it under the microscope carefully, while the light lasts.'
'Oh father!' cried the child, 'don't touch it, it is alive!'
'Nonsense!' said the professor, 'it is as dead as a door-nail. Just reach me that lens.'
He raised the glass stopper unsuspiciously, then turned to adjust his instrument And even as he turned his captive fled.
'There!' cried the boy.
Like a flash of sunshine, Queen Mab darted upwards and floated through the open window. They saw her hover outside a moment, then she was gone—back into her deathless ether.
'I told you so!' exclaimed the poet, startled by this incident into a momentary conviction of the truth of his own theory.