"Good! Very good!" cried the ladies in chorus. "We should have done that long ago!"
"But who's the Commissioner of Public Thought?" I inquired. "And what's the Oath of Fidelity?"
"You'll find out, young man, after you've swallowed it!" snapped the Professor. "And now you've had enough of my time for one day! I must get back to my researches on the history of the comma in ancient literature!"
So saying, the Professor glided from the room with long strides of his great, ungainly legs, while the four ladies regarded me more than a little coolly, like one who has betrayed a strange and criminal turn of mind.
CHAPTER XII
I Swallow the Oath
It was on the following day that Professor Tan Trum, true to his promise, took me to visit the Commissioner of Public Thought. Or, rather, it was on the following "wake"; for the chalk-faces, not having the guidance of the sun, divide time into periods of about twelve hours each, which are known alternately as "sleeps" and "wakes."
As this was the first time I had been out of the Professor's house for months, except for occasional visits to back galleries for exercise, I strode along at his side with great glee as he led me through the winding thoroughfares toward the office of the Commissioner. Several times, in my joy at being out, I walked carelessly ahead of my companion, and narrowly missed being felled by one of the small coaster-like vehicles, or "scootscoots," as they were called; but despite such near-mishaps, I kept up my good spirits until we had reached our destination, a long gloomy chamber where fifty chalk-faces were already waiting in line.
"The Commissioner's Headquarters are always crowded," stated the Professor, as we took our places at the foot of the procession. "You see, all Second and Third Class citizens are required to swallow the Oath of Fidelity twice a year."