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Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 1809-1894

"The Poet at the Breakfast-Table"


So the reader can easily account for the interval of silence. It is hard
to tell how long it would have lasted, but just then a lubberly intrusive
boy threw a great stone, which convulsed the firmament, the one at their
feet, I mean. The six Pleiads disappeared as if in search of their lost
sister; the belt of Orion was broken asunder, and a hundred worlds
dissolved back into chaos. They turned away and strayed off into one of
the more open paths, where the view of the sky over them was
unobstructed. For some reason or other the astronomical lesson did not
get on very fast this evening.
Presently the young man asked his pupil:
--Do you know what the constellation directly over our heads is?
--Is it not Cassiopea?--she asked a little hesitatingly.
--No, it is Andromeda. You ought not to have forgotten her, for I
remember showing you a double star, the one in her right foot, through
the equatorial telescope. You have not forgotten the double star,--the
two that shone for each other and made a little world by themselves?
--No, indeed,--she answered, and blushed, and felt ashamed because she
had said indeed, as if it had been an emotional recollection.
The double-star allusion struck another dead silence. She would have
given a week's pay to any invisible attendant that would have cut her
stay-lace.


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