that the invention had not worked as I
had intended it should, and therefore I should put it behind me
forever."

"Oh, dear!" cried the Next Neighbor. "I knew it was coming!"

"Maybe it didn't," said the Master of the House.

"Having come to a decision," the Old Professor went on, with more
animation, "upon this most important matter, my mind grew easier and I
became happier. What was anything a black tube could do for me--what,
indeed, was anything in the world--compared to the love of that dear
girl? And so I sat and gazed into the fire, and dreamed waking dreams
of blessedness.

"After a time, however, it came to me that I must make up my mind what I
was going to do about the translatophone. I might as well take it apart
and throw it into the fire at once, and then there would be an end to
that danger to the future of which I had been dreaming. Yes; there would
be an end to that. But there would also be an end to the great boon I
was about to bestow upon the world, a boon the value of which I had not
half understood. It truly was a wonderful thing--a most wonderful thing.
An American or an Englishman, or any one speaking English, could take
with him a translatophone and travel around the world, understanding the
language of every nation, of every people--the polished tongues of
civilization, the speech of the scholars of the Orient, and even the
jabber of the wild savages of Africa. To be sure, he could not expect to
answer those who spoke to him, but what of that? He would not wish to
speak; he would merely desire to hear. All he would have to do would be
to pretend that he was deaf and dumb, and my simple translatophone might
put him into communication with the minds of every grade and variety of
humanity.

"Then a new thought flashed into my mind. Why only humanity? If I should
attach a wide mouth-piece to my instrument, why should I not gather in
the songs and cries of the birds? Why should I not hear in plain English
what they say to each other? Why should not all creation speak to me so
that I could understand? Why should I not know what the dog says when he
barks--what words the hen addresses to her chicks when she clucks to
them to follow? Why should I not know the secrets of what is now to us a
tongue-tied world of nature?

[Illustration: And dreamed waking dreams of blessedness.]

"Then I had another idea, that made me jump from my chair and walk the
floor. I might know what the monkeys say when th