Отравленный пояс
Chapter I. The Blurring Of Lines
"Thenyouwillbeabletogethisopeenionsoutofhim.InanyothermanIwouldsayitwasallmoonshine,butthefellowhasmadegoodonce,andwhoknowsbuthemayagain!"
"Getwhatoutofhim?"Iasked."Whathashebeendoing?"
"Haven’tyouseenhisletteron’ScientificPossibeelities’into-day’sTimes?"
"No."
McArdlediveddownandpickedacopyfromthefloor.
"Readitaloud,"saidhe,indicatingacolumnwithhisfinger."I’dbegladtohearitagain,forIamnotsurenowthatIhavetheman’smeaningclearinmyhead."
ThiswastheletterwhichIreadtothenewseditoroftheGazette:—
"SCIENTIFICPOSSIBILITIES"
"Sir,—Ihavereadwithamusement,notwhollyunmixedwithsomelesscomplimentaryemotion,thecomplacentandwhollyfatuousletterofJamesWilsonMacPhailwhichhaslatelyappearedinyourcolumnsuponthesubjectoftheblurringofFraunhofer’slinesinthespectrabothoftheplanetsandofthefixedstars.Hedismissesthematterasofnosignificance.Toawiderintelligenceitmaywellseemofverygreatpossibleimportance—sogreatastoinvolvetheultimatewelfareofeveryman,woman,andchilduponthisplanet.Icanhardlyhope,bytheuseofscientificlanguage,toconveyanysenseofmymeaningtothoseineffectualpeoplewhogathertheirideasfromthecolumnsofadailynewspaper.Iwillendeavour,therefore,tocondescendtotheirlimitationandtoindicatethesituationbytheuseofahomelyanalogywhichwillbewithinthelimitsoftheintelligenceofyourreaders."
"Man,he’sawonder—alivingwonder!"saidMcArdle,shakinghisheadreflectively.
