"I shouldn't think he would."
But on this occasion Professor Wright had a ranch more receptive and intelligent audience. For, as I have said, overhearing Dick and Bud discussing the "jaw-breaking names," as the boys termed them, the scientist approached them with a reassuring smile on his face and said:
"You are somewhat like the old lady, told of in the book written by Professor Lucas of the American Museum of Natural History. In his introduction he speaks of the necessity for using what are termed 'big' words—that is scientific terms, and he mentions an old lady who said she wasn't so surprised at the discovery of all these strange animals, as she was at the fact that someone knew their names when they were found."
"But you don't know the names when you find them; do you?" asked Dick. "Don't you name them after they are found?"
"In a way we do, yes," answered the scientist. "But in the case of those already found—and I am searching for specimens of some extinct animals already identified—we have settled upon names.
"As Professor Lucas remarks, the real trouble is that there are no common names for these animals. As a matter of fact, when they existed there were no people on earth to name them, or, if there were, the names given by prehistoric man were not preserved, since they wrote no histories.
"And, as a matter of fact, those who complain that these names are hard to pronounce do not stop to think that, in many cases, the names of the Dinosaurs are no harder than others. They are simply less familiar and not so often used. You wouldn't call hippopotamus a hard word; would you, boys?" he asked.
"It isn't hard to pronounce, but I'd hate to have to spell it," chuckled Bud.
"It's easy if you take it slow," declared Dick, and, then and there he spelled it.
"Well, you've been to more circuses than I have," countered Bud.