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Abbott, Edwin Abbott, 1838-1926

"Flatland: a romance of many dimensions (Illustrated)"

"
"Go to bed," said I, a little ruffled by this interruption:
"if you would talk less nonsense, you would remember more sense."
So my Grandson had disappeared in disgrace; and there I sat
by my Wife's side, endeavouring to form a retrospect of the year 1999
and of the possibilities of the year 2000, but not quite able
to shake off the thoughts suggested by the prattle of my bright
little Hexagon. Only a few sands now remained in the half-hour glass.
Rousing myself from my reverie I turned the glass Northward
for the last time in the old Millennium; and in the act,
I exclaimed aloud, "The boy is a fool."
Straightway I became conscious of a Presence in the room,
and a chilling breath thrilled through my very being.
"He is no such thing," cried my Wife, "and you are breaking
the Commandments in thus dishonouring your own Grandson."
But I took no notice of her. Looking round in every direction
I could see nothing; yet still I FELT a Presence, and shivered
as the cold whisper came again. I started up. "What is the matter?"
said my Wife, "there is no draught; what are you looking for?
There is nothing." There was nothing; and I resumed my seat,
again exclaiming, "The boy is a fool, I say; 3^3 can have no meaning
in Geometry.


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