

    Henry Lion Oldie
    The Prophet



    * * *


    "Arise, oh prophet, hark and see,
    Perform that will o'mine!
    And wandering through lands and seas
    Burn hearts by verbal fire."
A. S. Pushkin
    Antisthenes took the test-tube and examined the fluid against the light. The elixir was dark-golden, thick, resembling old Tokay. Was this the one or not? Hope, Antishpenus' eternal companion, cried yes, it was! But scepticism  the invariable burden of a scientist  demanded a
    trial. Antishpenus came up to the old table, corroded by acids and charred in some places, took a flask with reagent. At that very moment came a demanding knock on the door. He knew that would happen, sooner or later, but... oh no, not now! Too much pain. The knock was getting more
    and more persistent.
    Antisthenes came to with a startle. The door would stand no longer than two minutes. He should act. Feverishly he grabbed a pile of tattered papers with formulae, figures and designs, and tossed them into the fireplace. Then the papers from the drawer went flying into the fire. What else? The apparatus! Antisthenes grasped the poker and, his eyes closed, swung and struck the ...


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