"The end," replied the Professor in a melancholy voice.
"But," she continued, "why have you called it 'Lokis'? Not a single person in it is so called."
"It is not the name of a man," said the Professor. "Come, Théodore, do you understand what 'Lokis' means?"
"Not in the very least."
"If you were thoroughly steeped in the law of transformation from the Sanskrit into Lithuanian, you would have recognised in lokis the Sanskrit arkcha, or rikscha. The Lithuanians call lokis that animal which the Greeks called ἄρκτος, the Latins ursus, and the Germans bär.
"Now you will understand my motto:
"Miszka su Lokiu,
Abu du tokiu."
"You remember that in the romance of Renard the bear is called damp Brun. The Slavs called it Michel, which becomes Miszka in Lithuanian, and the surname nearly always replaces the generic name lokis. In the same way the French have forgotten their new Latin word goupil, or gorpil, and have substituted renard. I could quote you endless other instances...."
But Adelaide observed that it was late, and we ought to go to bed.