A quiet consultation followed, after which one of the professors retired from the room and soon returned with certain morsels of food. Upon handing them to me, I at once remarked: "Keep these morsels for yourself; I have better food to eat, of which you know nothing."
The other two professors had by this time observed that my watch was a marvelous piece of mechanism beyond their most delicate accomplishments, and they announced the fact to their other companion who again looked at me in breathless surprise. "Where did you get this Fot-sil?" (or plaything), he queried in one breath.
"Farther away than the circumference of your world," was my evasive and, to them, unsatisfactory reply.
"Won't you tell us, child, how far away that is?" asked another with subdued impatience.
"Millions of miles." (Of course I spoke in terms of their linear measurements).
"How many millions?"
"Sometimes five hundred and sometimes six hundred millions."
Without giving them a chance for asking me another question I offered to let them see my home if they would permit me to use the most powerful telescope in their observatory.
My listeners were indeed amazed and were about to pour upon me a volley of interrogations. I assured them that I would answer no more questions until I knew whether my request would be granted.
This necessitated a consultation with the chief astronomer who, upon learning of my peculiar request and of my unnatural formation, hastened to the museum to see the monstrosity.