ADVANCED CHEMISTRY
~ By Jack G. Huekels ~
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He grasped the brass bed post with one hand and stretched out the other to aid the staggering man. He caught his hand; both bodies stiffened; a slight crackling sound was audible and simultaneously a blue flash shot from where their hands made contact with the bed post. |
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rofessor Carbonic was diligently at work in his spacious laboratory, analyzing, mixing and experimenting. He had been employed for more than fifteen years in the same pursuit of happiness, in the same house, same laboratory, and attended by the same servant woman, a negress, who in her long period of service had attained the plumpness and respectability of two hundred and ninety pounds.
“Mag Nesia,” called the professor. The servant's name was Maggie Nesia—Professor Carbonic had contracted the title to save time, for in fifteen years he had not mounted the heights of greatness; he must work harder and faster as life is short, and eliminate such shameful waste of time as putting the “gie” on Maggie.
“Mag Nesia!” the professor repeated.
The old negress rolled slowly into the room.
“Get rid of these and bring the one the boy brought today.”
He handed her a tray containing three dead rats, whose brains had been subjected to analysis.
“Yes, Marse,” answered Mag Nesia in a tone like citrate.
The professor busied himself with a new preparation of zinc oxide and copper sulphate and sal ammoniac, his latest concoction, which was about to be used and, like its predecessors, to be abandoned.
Mag Nesia appeared bringing another rat, dead. The professor made no experiments on live animals. He had hired a boy in the neighborhood to bring him fresh dead rats at twenty-five cents per head.
Taking the tray he prepared a hypodermic filled with the new preparation. Carefully he made an incision above the right eye of the carcass through the bone. He lifted the hypodermic, half hopelessly, half expectantly. The old negress watched him, as she had done many times before, with always the same pitiful expression. Pitiful, either for the man himself or for the dead rat. Mag Nesia seldom expressed her views.
Inserting the hypodermic needle and injecting the contents of the syringe, Professor Carbonic stepped back.
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