As the emperor allowed them each a handsome pension to advance the interests of science, they went on with their discoveries rejoicing, and for a long time had never stirred from their apartments in one of His Majesty's country palaces. They scarcely left off thinking, when they were asleep; never had the least idea what they were eating for dinner, or even what the materials of that dinner looked like; and, in short, were sublimely unconscious of any of the ordinary affairs or interests of life; and thought only of sciences, and high-flown theories of Health, of Natural Philosophy, Chemistry, Botany, and goodness knows what beside. The fifth and last of the learned men was supposed to consider silence as an art or science, since he hardly ever said anything; and for that reason was thought to be wiser than the other four put together.
At last, one fine morning, one of our learned men chanced to poke his head out of the window, to see what on earth had become of one of his glass retorts, which he had filled with gas until it went off like a rocket; and could not help being struck with the blue sky, the fresh green herbage, and the thousands of beautiful wild flowers that sprinkled the grass. It was a charming summer day; the birds had not yet left off singing, and the fresh breeze, fanning the bald forehead of the philosopher, appeared wonderfully pleasant.
"Why, bless me!" cried the philosopher, whose name was Dr. Skihi; "while I have been trying to reduce chemistry to the uses of a penny post, I never thought of remarking whether it was a pleasant day or not. How bright and beautiful everything looks! Out-of-doors is a very good sort of thing, after all. I declare, I've a great mind—pooh! nonsense; science—glorious science, is a great deal more to be regarded than a fine day in the country."
DR. MUMBUDGET LOOKING OUT OF THE WINDOW.
So saying, he drew his head in again, and turned to his books and saucepans; for, you see, he was trying to condense gas, and make it dart through the air like a skyrocket, carrying a letter, or a telegraphic message, or even a traveller with it, if it was made strong enough; but, so far, he had only succeeded in breaking his retorts, and blowing himself up till his head came bump against the ceiling, and knocked off little bits of plaster. Everything in the study looked remarkably dingy after the freshness of the fields, and the doctor could not refrain from taking another peep. This time, the contrast appeared even greater than before, while directly underneath his window there now stood two pretty little girls, one holding a great bunch of roses and other blooming flowers, and both intent on a long leaf of manuscript, which they were puzzling and laughing over, calling it "such a silly thing!" Our doctor, to his great dudgeon, recognized it as part of a learned treatise, his own production, which had accidentally blown out of the window; but, as to be known as the writer of silly things is not specially dignified, he preferred saying nothing about the matter.
"I have a great mind," he said again; "yes, I'll go and ask Dr. Sheepshanks if he does not think it would be a good plan for us to take a short trip into the country. No doubt we should make some very important discoveries."
Excusing the idea to himself in this way, Dr. Skihi toddled up one pair of stairs and down two pair of stairs, and straight along a crooked corridor, and all round a square hall, until he arrived at the apartments of Dr. Sheepshanks. He knocked at the door, and peeped through the keyhole until he was told to come in, when he opened the door softly, and shut it with an astonished bang, that made all the spiders, who were dancing hornpipes in all the corners (for the learned men would have died rather than have their sacred studies disturbed by a house-cleaning) stand on one leg for several minutes with surprise, as a noise in the philosophers' palace was a thing rather more seldom met with than a crononhotonthologos.
The sight that caused Dr. Skihi to commit such a breach of good manners was Dr. Sheepshanks in the very middle of a summersault! with his flowered dressing gown about his ears and his spindle shanks and black stockings in the air, looking not unlike a two-legged radish growing upside down.
To him rushed Dr. Skihi, who, catching his friend by the tails of his dressing gown, had him right side up in a hurry, exclaiming, "Crucibles and gasbags! my good sir, have you gone crazy?"