“Is it really the age of trees?” inquired Madame Droguet with an anxious glance at the doctor.
“Why, yes, my dear lady; pray be calm! there has never been a question of anything else.”
Everybody united in begging Chamoureau to keep his promise by making known his discovery. Even Thélénie said to him:
“Come, speak up, monsieur; you see that everybody is waiting for you.”
Chamoureau felt it incumbent upon him to rise, so that he might be heard more distinctly; and having bowed to right and left, as if he were going to propose a toast, he began:
“Long ago I noticed——”
“I say! I know that song,” muttered Freluchon, as Chamoureau paused to cough; “is that his discovery?”
Having succeeded in clearing his throat, Chamoureau continued:
“Long ago I noticed that a person, as he looked at a tree, would say: ‘I wonder how old it is!’ Then he would proceed to make figures according to its girth and the wrinkles of its bark, and make an approximate estimate; but no one was ever certain. It occurred to me that it would be no less useful than agreeable to be able to tell the age of a tree instantly, simply by looking at it.”
“It would be admirable!” said the doctor.