lipse of the moon then, he
admitted that the eclipse would have taken place at just the time
Professor Morgan's table indicated; but as the case was, he referred to
such an event contemptuously as "an Irish eclipse," and was extremely
scathing in his language. His review closed with an expression of regret
that an educator connected with the great Joplin University could have
been guilty of such an error, not of figures, but of logic.

Professor Morgan replied to all his critics, Professor Macadam included,
in a masterly article, in which he declared that he was responsible only
for his mathematics, not for the degree of cohesion of the earth's mucky
mass hundreds of millions of years ago, and that the eclipse he had
calculated must stand.

Professor Macadam came to the charge once more, briefly but savagely.
He again admitted the correctness of the computation, but ridiculed
Professor Morgan's attitude on the subject. "His figures," he concluded,
"simply lie."

The day following the appearance of Professor Macadam's final article,
he was called upon in his study by Professor Morgan. The younger man did
not present the appearance of a crushed controversialist. On the
contrary, his air was pleasantly expectant. "I called," said he, "to
learn how soon you expected my marriage with your daughter to take
place?"

The older man started in his seat, "What do you mean, sir?" he demanded.

"Why, I called simply to discuss my marriage with your daughter. On the
occasion when you refused my first proposition you said that if I proved
that figures would lie your consent would be forthcoming. I have proved
to you that figures sometimes lie. I have not only your own admission,
but your assertion to that effect, made public in the columns of a great
quarterly. I know you to be a man of your word. I have come to talk
about my marriage."

Professor Macadam did not at once reply. His face became very red. "I
must talk with my daughter," he said finally.

That afternoon Professor Macadam and his daughter had an interview. The
young lady proved very firm. She would listen to no equivocation and no
protest. She had thought her father to be a man of honor--that was all
she had to say. She touched the old gentleman upon his weak point. He
yielded, not gracefully, but that was of no moment. She and Professor
Morgan, just then, had grace enough for an entire family--in their
hearts.

And so they were married. And so, too, you know th