not only brings
not only brings the problem of gravity into full accord with all rational cosmography, but sheds as well a broad beam of light upon the most diverse questions hitherto unanswered. To give just one example, from the field of ethnology: why, Shelyid, is it the custom to bury the dead?”
“I d-don’t know, master,” stammered the dwarf.
“Of course you don’t!” exclaimed the mage. “How could you, without understanding the Law of Gravity? The reason is simple, my stupid but loyal apprentice. The dead are buried because it is only proper that the final end of life, which is a grave undertaking, should be death, which is graver still. And what more fitting place for the dead, therefore, than the grave?
“But with all these mysteries resolved,” went on the wizard, “surely your mind has begun to grope at a related but contradictory problem. To wit, the gravitation of objects having been explained, why do certain objects rise?
“The answer to this question, Shelyid—whose discovery is also a monopoly of my genius—is to be found in the explication of the Law of Levity. What is the Law of Levity? The Law of Levity postulates that objects rise in accordance with the—”
At that moment the sorcerer’s discourse was suddenly interrupted by a loud knocking on the door of the study.
“Shelyid!” spoke Zulkeh. “Someone is at the door.”
“I know, master,” muttered Shelyid, his anxious visage peering from behind the cabinet where he had instantly retreated at the sound of knocking.
“Then answer it, dolt!”
“But, master,” whined the dwarf, “what if it’s a stranger?”
“Bah!” oathed Zulkeh. “Who else would it be, cretin? I command you, open the door!”
“Yes, master,” grumbled the runt. Shelyid inched from behind the cabinet and, apprehension writ plain upon his face, slowly approached and opened the door.
Now, the gentle reader is perhaps puzzled by the peculiar attitude evidenced by the misshapen apprentice toward this mundane task of opening a door in response to a knock. But the matter is, in truth, simple of explanation. We have already
“I d-don’t know, master,” stammered the dwarf.
“Of course you don’t!” exclaimed the mage. “How could you, without understanding the Law of Gravity? The reason is simple, my stupid but loyal apprentice. The dead are buried because it is only proper that the final end of life, which is a grave undertaking, should be death, which is graver still. And what more fitting place for the dead, therefore, than the grave?
“But with all these mysteries resolved,” went on the wizard, “surely your mind has begun to grope at a related but contradictory problem. To wit, the gravitation of objects having been explained, why do certain objects rise?
“The answer to this question, Shelyid—whose discovery is also a monopoly of my genius—is to be found in the explication of the Law of Levity. What is the Law of Levity? The Law of Levity postulates that objects rise in accordance with the—”
At that moment the sorcerer’s discourse was suddenly interrupted by a loud knocking on the door of the study.
“Shelyid!” spoke Zulkeh. “Someone is at the door.”
“I know, master,” muttered Shelyid, his anxious visage peering from behind the cabinet where he had instantly retreated at the sound of knocking.
“Then answer it, dolt!”
“But, master,” whined the dwarf, “what if it’s a stranger?”
“Bah!” oathed Zulkeh. “Who else would it be, cretin? I command you, open the door!”
“Yes, master,” grumbled the runt. Shelyid inched from behind the cabinet and, apprehension writ plain upon his face, slowly approached and opened the door.
Now, the gentle reader is perhaps puzzled by the peculiar attitude evidenced by the misshapen apprentice toward this mundane task of opening a door in response to a knock. But the matter is, in truth, simple of explanation. We have already