The Scientific Adventures of Mr. Fosdick
The Feline Light and Power Company is Organized
Science is not the dry thing that some people would like us to believe. Mr. Fosdick, in this captivating tale demonstrates this most aptly. Did you ever stroke a cat in the dark, and watch the sparks leap between your hand and the cat's fur? Perhaps you did. But it remained for the illustrious Fosdick to commercialize this great inherent power. The results were most amazing, as the readers will soon find out.
Starting with a single cat, highly charged with electricity, see what a catastrophe—no pun intended—he brings upon himself. There is only one point we missed and that is "What electrode in the experiment was the CAThode?"
ASON Q. FOSDICK closed the book that he had received by mail that morning, "Electricity at a Glance," and for a long time stared at the blank wall of the tinshop. Mr. Fosdick was thinking. Mr. Fosdick spent a great deal of his time in thought—probably
most of his time. It was a common saying in Whiffleville that "When Mr. Fosdick gets through his thinking something is going to happen!" And in this the citizens were never disappointed, for invariably when Mr. Fosdick did get through his thinking something always did happen. Everybody liked the homely little man with the kindly face and the mild blue eyes, and in all the
countryside none enjoyed a greater confidence and respect than Mr. Fosdick, for he was an inventor and genius. In all matters pertaining to science he was the village authority—even a greater authority than old Professor Snooks, the fiercely bewhiskered savant of Doolittle College up on the hill. Snooks had once called him "a doddering tinker," but this Mr. Fosdick attributed
to jealousy as did all the inhabitants of Whiffleville, for the Professor was a pompous man and an unpopular one. No fair-minded person could doubt Mr. Fosdick's versatility in the arts and crafts, for upon the signboard that hung over the sidewalk, in front of the door of the tinshop, was lettered his many accomplishments:
JASON QUINCY FOSDICK
Tinsmith, Key-Fitter
and Scissors-Grinder
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