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But there was something in Purdy's pranks that a laughter-lover like Polly could never for long withstand. Here, now, in feigning to imitate the unfortunate Hempel, he was sheerly irresistible.
These particular rays are the result of the enormous temperature of the solar atmosphere, and their effect upon radioactive substances is analogous to that of the detonating cap upon dynamite. No one has been able to produce these rays in the laboratory, although Hempel has suspected sometimes that traces of them appeared in the radiations from powerful electric sparks.
And I verily believe, if it hadn't been for that old sober-sides of a Hempel, I should have come a cropper long ago." "Yes, and Hempel," said Polly softly; "Hempel's been wanting to leave for ever so long." "The dickens he has!" cried Mahony in astonishment. "And me humming and hawing about giving him notice! What's the matter with him? What's he had to complain of?" "Oh, nothing like that.
Fresh from this dip into the past, this foretaste of the future, he turned in good heart to business. An inventory had to be taken; damaged goods cleared out; a list of bad and less bad debts drawn up: he and Hempel were hard at work all next day. The result was worse even than he had expected.
And a tentative letter to her brother John had not called forth an invitation: Mrs. Emma was in delicate health at present, and had no mind for visitors. So he committed Polly to the care of Hempel and Long Jim, both of whom were her faithful henchmen. She herself, in proper wifely fashion, proposed to give her little house a good red-up in its master's absence.
He stood to read, the volume lying open before him on the top of the cold stove, and was so deeply engrossed that the store-bell rang twice without his hearing it. When, reminded that Hempel was absent, he whipped out to answer it, he carried the volume with him. But his first treatment of Purdy's wound was also his last.
Or pretending to enjoy them. This was Mahony's case; for the day was no holiday for him, and his head ached from the sun. At tea-time Hempel arrived to pay a call, looking very spruce in a long black coat and white tie; and close on his heels followed old Mr. Ocock.
Well, it was a blessing at this juncture that business could be left to him. Hempel was as straight as a die; was a real treasure or would have been, were it not for his eternal little bark of a cough. This was proof against all remedies, and the heck-heck of it at night was quite enough to spoil a light sleeper's rest.
[Footnote 73: This seems very odd in view of the fact that in Loeper’s edition of “Dichtung und Wahrheit” (Hempel, XXII, p.
Miss Hempel has endeared herself to all through her lovely voice, her use of it, her charm of manner and the sincerity of her art. It is seven years since Miss Hempel first came to sing at the Metropolitan. America has advanced very greatly in musical appreciation during this period. Miss Hempel herself has grown in artistic stature with each new character she has assumed.
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