“How came you to know about it?” says Tom.
“I should think it would be hard to catch nothing,” says Bob.
“I found it in the water, in the little pool in our woods. I saw it first the other night in the dark, and I caught it to-day when it was hiding. I took a long stick and gently stirred up the dead leaves that lie rotting on the bottom, and he began to come up—first one, then another—now here, and now there.”
“Ho! ho!” says Bob. “How could that be? How could he come up in pieces, and in different places?”
“Poor thing!” said Pip. “He wath dead!”
“Oh, if he’s dead I don’t care about him,” says Bob.
“He’s far from dead,” said the Professor; “and though he was in pieces, he’s all together now, and safe in this tumbler.” And then, seizing the lighted taper, he turned up the tumbler, held the taper quickly to its mouth, and—Pop! went something, with a quick flash.
“Oh, fire-works!” says Bob.
“Oh, tell us truly about it!” says Tom. “Where did you buy it? Let’s have some for the Fourth!”
“Children,” said the Professor, “I have told you the truth about it. It’s gas. It’s carbureted hydrogen. I found it in the pond. ‘Carbureted hydrogen’ is its science name. Its poetry name is ‘Will-o’-the-wisp,’ and there’s another name besides.”