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Updated: May 6, 2025
He said nothing, and I stared at him, appalled by the possibility of reporting to Professor Smawl for instructions next morning. "See here, Lesard," I said, nervously, "I wish you would step over to the Administration Building and ask the trustees if I may prepare for this expedition. Will you?" He glanced at me sympathetically.
The younger lady passed me with face averted, but even in the dusk I could see the tip of one little ear turn scarlet. Walking on hurriedly, I entered the Administration Building, and found Professor Lesard, of the reptilian department, preparing to leave. "Don't you do it," I said, sharply; "I've got exciting news." "I'm only going to the theatre," he replied.
"I am quite convinced," said I to Professor Lesard, "that Miss Smawl is perfectly capable of abusing the information she overheard, and of starting herself to explore a region that, by all the laws of decency, justice, and prior claim, belongs to me." "Well," said Lesard, with a peculiar laugh, "it's not certain whether you can go at all."
Now she knows about the glacier; she heard every word that young ruffian said, and she'll go to the glacier if it's only to forestall me." Professor Lesard looked anxious. He knew that Miss Smawl, professor of natural history at Barnard College, had long desired an appointment at the Bronx Park gardens.
"Lesard," I said, hoarsely, "you don't suppose that they could possibly elect Miss Smawl as our president, do you?" He looked at me askance and bit his cigar. "I'd be in a nice position, wouldn't I?" said I, anxiously. "The lady would probably make you walk the plank for that tiger business," he replied. "But I didn't do it," I protested, with sickly eagerness. "Besides, I explained to her "
"The old dragon isn't elected this time," I added, triumphantly. "By-the-way," he said, "who was the other dragon with her in the park this evening?" I described her in a more modulated voice. "Whew!" observed Professor Lesard, "that must be her assistant, Professor Dorothy Van Twiller! She's the prettiest blue-stocking in town."
"Professor Farrago will authorize me," I said, confidently. "Professor Farrago has resigned," said Lesard. It was a bolt from a clear sky. "Good Heavens!" I blurted out. "What will become of the rest of us, then?" "I don't know," he replied. "The trustees are holding a meeting over in the Administration Building to elect a new president for us. It depends on the new president what becomes of us."
Any excuse for not complying with these orders will be accepted as your resignation. "SUSAN SMAWL, "President Bronx Zoological Society." "Lesard!" I shouted, trembling with fury. He appeared at his door, chastely draped in pajamas; and he read the insolent letter with terrified alacrity. "What are you going to do resign?" he asked, much frightened. "Do!"
One day towards the end of May, however, just as I was leaving Bronx Park to return to town, Professor Lesard, of the reptilian department, called out to me that Professor Farrago wanted to see me a moment; so I put my pipe into my pocket again and retraced my steps to the temporary, wooden building occupied by Professor Farrago, general superintendent of the Zoological Gardens.
With this curious remark my confrère followed me into my room and wrote down the list of articles I dictated to him. The list included a complete camping equipment for myself and three other men. "Am I one of those other men?" inquired Lesard, with an unhappy smile. Before I could reply my door was shoved open and a figure appeared at the threshold, cap in hand. "What do you want?"
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