Sylvie and Bruno | Page 8

with a smile on his jolly
face. "Allow me to explain. It is, in fact, a very simple problem in
Hydrodynamics. (That means a combination of Water and Strength.) If
we take a plunge-bath, and a man of great strength (such as myself)
about to plunge into it, we have a perfect example of this science. I am
bound to admit," the Professor continued, in a lower tone and with
downcast eyes, "that we need a man of remarkable strength. He must be
able to spring from the floor to about twice his own height, gradually
turning over as he rises, so as to come down again head first."
"Why, you need a flea, not a man!" exclaimed the Sub-Warden.
"Pardon me," said the Professor. "This particular kind of bath is not
adapted for a flea. Let us suppose," he continued, folding his
table-napkin into a graceful festoon, "that this represents what is
perhaps the necessity of this Age--the Active Tourist's Portable Bath.
You may describe it briefly, if you like," looking at the Chancellor, "by
the letters A.T.P.B."
The Chancellor, much disconcerted at finding everybody looking at
him, could only murmur, in a shy whisper, "Precisely so!"
"One great advantage of this plunge-bath," continued the Professor, "is
that it requires only half-a-gallon of water--"
"I don't call it a plunge-bath," His Sub-Excellency remarked, "unless
your Active Tourist goes right under!"
"But he does go right under," the old man gently replied. "The A.T.
hangs up the P. B. on a nail--thus. He then empties the water-jug into
it--places the empty jug below the bag--leaps into the air--descends
head-first into the bag--the water rises round him to the top of the
bag--and there you are!" he triumphantly concluded. "The A.T. is as
much under water as if he'd gone a mile or two down into the Atlantic!"

"And he's drowned, let us say, in about four minutes--"
"By no means!" the Professor answered with a proud smile. "After
about a minute, he quietly turns a tap at the lower end of the P. B.--all
the water runs back into the jug and there you are again!"
"But how in the world is he to get out of the bag again?"
"That, I take it," said the Professor, "is the most beautiful part of the
whole invention. All the way up the P.B., inside, are loops for the
thumbs; so it's something like going up-stairs, only perhaps less
comfortable; and, by the time the A. T. has risen out of the bag, all but
his head, he's sure to topple over, one way or the other--the Law of
Gravity secures that. And there he is on the floor again!"
"A little bruised, perhaps?"
"Well, yes, a little bruised; but having had his plunge-bath: that's the
great thing."
"Wonderful! It's almost beyond belief!" murmured the Sub-Warden.
The Professor took it as a compliment, and bowed with a gratified
smile.
"Quite beyond belief!" my Lady added--meaning, no doubt, to be more
complimentary still. The Professor bowed, but he didn't smile this time.
"I can assure you," he said earnestly, "that, provided the bath was made,
I used it every morning. I certainly ordered it--that I am clear
about--my only doubt is, whether the man ever finished making it. It's
difficult to remember, after so many years--"
At this moment the door, very slowly and creakingly, began to open,
and Sylvie and Bruno jumped up, and ran to meet the well-known
footstep.
CHAPTER 3.
BIRTHDAY-PRESENTS.

"It's my brother!" the Sub-warden exclaimed, in a warning whisper.
"Speak out, and be quick about it!"
The appeal was evidently addressed to the Lord Chancellor, who
instantly replied, in a shrill monotone, like a little boy repeating the
alphabet, "As I was remarking, your Sub-Excellency, this portentous
movement--"
"You began too soon!" the other interrupted, scarcely able to restrain
himself to a whisper, so great was his excitement. "He couldn't have
heard you. Begin again!" "As I was remarking," chanted the obedient
Lord Chancellor, "this portentous movement has already assumed the
dimensions of a Revolution!"
"And what are the dimensions of a Revolution?" The voice was genial
and mellow, and the face of the tall dignified old man, who had just
entered the room, leading Sylvie by the hand, and with Bruno riding
triumphantly on his shoulder, was too noble and gentle to have scared a
less guilty man: but the Lord Chancellor turned pale instantly, and
could hardly articulate the words "The dimensions your-- your High
Excellency? I--I--scarcely comprehend!"
"Well, the length, breadth, and thickness, if you like it better!" And the
old man smiled, half-contemptuously.
The Lord Chancellor recovered himself with a great effort, and pointed
to the open window. "If your High Excellency will listen for a moment
to the shouts of the exasperated populace--" ("of the