"You see," said the Mathematician, triumphantly.
"What do I see?" asked the Prince.
"You did n't get the right one."
"But I did the first time," argued the Prince. "All your experiment proves is that I may hit it right the first time, and miss it the second, if I should try again. But if I hit it right the first time, I sha'n't have to try over again; so your rule does n't apply. Is n't that so?"
"It does sound reasonable," answered the Mathematician, who was honest though scientific.
"Perhaps you'd like to go home and try the experiment for yourself?" said the Prince, kindly.
The Mathematician borrowed the beans, and went home, promising to send a written report of his trials after a few days.
"Now that we have settled the mathematical side of the question," said the Court Meteorologist, "we can go at the problem scientifically. Here, if you will allow me, is the way it appears to me, your Royal Highness."
Then the Meteorologist unrolled a map and pinned it on the wall.
"The present position of the lost Princess," said he, "depends upon the joint action of the winds and tides. The Gulf Stream has little or nothing to do with the problem, as the boat was abandoned beyond the sphere of its influence. The trade-winds for a similar reason may perhaps be disregarded. There is no question here of simoom or sirocco, and—"
"Maybe it would be as well to leave out the things that have nothing to do with it," suggested the Prince, a little impatiently.
"But how shall we know what to leave out unless we go over them to see?" asked the lecturer.
"True," said the Prince; "but as that will take some time, you
