The Funny Philosophers Or, Wags and Sweethearts   By: George Yellott (1819-)

OR

WAGS AND SWEETHEARTS.

A NOVEL.

BY GEORGE YELLOTT.

PHILADELPHIA:

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO.

1872.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

THE FUNNY PHILOSOPHERS.

CHAPTER I.

"My great grandfather was a philosopher, and why should not his descendants be allowed the privilege of cogitating for themselves? I tell you that Sir Isaac Newton was mistaken. There is no such thing as the attraction of gravitation."

This was said by Toney Belton, a young lawyer, in reply to his friend Tom Seddon, a junior member of the same profession.

They were seated on the veranda of a hotel in the town of Bella Vista, gazing at the starry heavens; and Tom had made some remark about the wonderful revelations of science.

"What a pity it is, Toney Belton, that you are not a subject of her Majesty of England. Your extraordinary discovery would entitle you to the honors of knighthood, and we might read of a Sir Anthony Belton as well as of a Sir Isaac Newton. But how will you demonstrate to the world that there is no such thing as the attraction of gravitation?"

"Demonstrate it, Tom Seddon! Why, I can make it as plain as the proboscis on the countenance of an elephant."

"Do you mean to say that bodies do not fall to the earth by the power of attraction?"

"That is precisely what I mean. I assert that a heavy body may fall upward as well as downward."

"Ha, ha, ha!"

"As the old Greek said, Strike, but hear, so I say, Laugh, but listen. Will you allow me to suppose a case?"

"That is the privilege of all philosophers. The cosmology of the Oriental sage would have fallen into the vast vacuity of space had he not brought to its support a hypothetical foundation. Proceed with your demonstration."

"Suppose, then, that an immense well should be dug from the surface of the American continent entirely through the earth. We will not stop to inquire into the possibility of such an excavation, but will suppose that the work has been accomplished."

"Be it so. Your well has been dug, and extends entirely through the earth, from the United States of America to the Celestial Empire. What then?"

"Suppose that Clarence Hastings should be walking home about twelve o'clock at night. It would then be broad daylight in the dominions of his Majesty the Brother of the Sun and the Cousin of the Moon, and the Celestials would be picking tea leaves or parboiling puppies. Suppose, I say, that Clarence should be walking home after having spent the last four or five hours in the delightful society of the lovely Claribel. Now, it is highly probable that Clarence would be gazing upward at the lunar orb and meditating a sonnet."

"Nay; Harry Vincent is the sonneteer. I verily believe that he has dedicated a little poem of fourteen lines to nearly every visible star in the heavens, and solemnly swears in the most mellifluous verses that none of them are half so bright as the eyes of the bewitching Imogen."

"Let it be Harry Vincent, then, who is walking home and making his astronomical observations with a view to the disparagement of the stars, when brought in comparison with the optical orbs of his lady love. We will suppose that he is gazing at yonder star which is now winking at us, as if it heard every word of our conversation. He would take but little heed to his footsteps while his gaze was fixed upon the star and his thoughts were wandering away to Imogen. As he exclaimed, 'Oh, Imogen! thine eyes exceed in brightness all the glittering gems that bespangle the garments of the glorious night,' he would tumble into the well."

"Ha, ha, ha! Good by, Harry."

"Would he not rapidly descend?"

"I should think that he would."

"Would he stop falling when there was no bottom to the well?"

"It is impossible to suppose that he would."