The Lady Astronomer Read Free

the indignant squawking that issued from the trumpet. The
squawks grew quieter the further she got, and when she stood by Mrs. W she
could hear them no more.
    “Hasn’t married yet, your brother, has
he?” Mrs. W mused. “I mean I can understand that Alexander is hardly
a lure for the finer female, what with his musical tours and deep involvement
with his inventions. And you.” She covered her mouth before any more words
could fly out and wound, blushing. “I am sorry, my dear, I didn’t mean it
that way. It’s just that…”
    “Mrs. W.” Lucretia took a breath.
“I am used to such comments, think no more of it. But now, if you don’t
mind, I will take payment from you and box your hat.”
    Her customer had the grace to be abashed
yet continued to chatter over the top to cover her embarrassment, piling
platitudes like plates after dinner.
    “Really Mrs. W, don’t give it a
thought.” Lucretia beamed and practically pushed her out the door. She bolted
the door behind the older woman, and took a moment to catch her breath before
going to meet the irate customer at Mr. H’s Emporium of Tremendous Telescopes.
     
    *
     
    “There you are. Thank goodness.”
Freddie pounced on her as soon as the bell above the door of his shop tinkled. “I
couldn’t have waited another second for you!”
    “Now, what appears to be the problem?”
    “Ms. H, is it not?” A rather
portly gentleman walked with her over the knotty wooden shop floor. Freddie
winced every time the man’s girth caused him to bump into the small tables laid
out, their wares falling from the cunningly arranged displays.
    Telescopes of various sizes stood in racks,
gazing at nothing but the ceiling. Mirrors and eye pieces littered Freddie’s
counter. Chunks of blue glass, some smoothed, some waiting to be ground
further, alongside the remains of his last meal and a browning apple core.
    The man stretched out his hand as he
approached. “I understand that you are the soother of ‘old codgers’?”
    “Mr.?”
    “Mr. W my dear, I believe my wife has
purchased one of your hats?”
    “Ah, yes. I know the lady. Anyway, I
am sure my brother meant nothing by it.” She took the man’s arm and
steered him to the counter.
    Freddie stood back, smiling.
    “You see,” said Mr. W, “I
can’t see.”
    “Can’t see?”
    “Quite so.”
    “I’m dreadfully sorry, but what do you
mean?”
    “Oh, dear, I have already tried to
describe my predicament to your brother.”
    “Yes, but I’m here now. Tell me
instead.”
    “Your brother made me a fine
telescope. Quite fine it is. The problem is, when I try to stargaze, I am met
with blank, black heavens. I take my eye away from it and look to the sky, and
there it is in all its twinkling glory. Put my eye back to the piece, nothing.
I have been to my doctor, and he informs me that there is nothing wrong with my
eye. I am at a loss.”
    “Let me see your telescope.”
    He handed it to her and she turned it over
in her hands, examining every inch.
    “Mr. W, have you heard the story of
the man who had a pain in his eye each time he took a sip of tea from his fine
bone china teacup?”
    “I’m not sure that I have, and I like
a good story.”
    “Well, this man, too, went to his
doctor and, as in your case, the doctor told him that there was nothing wrong
with his eye. After further head-scratching, beard stroking, and general
rumination, the doctor asked the patient this: are you quite sure, sir, that
you take your spoon out of the teacup after placing sugar in said cup?”
    Mr. W looked at her blankly.
    Lucretia cleared her throat. “Mr. W,
the man in the story had forgotten to take the spoon out of the cup, and every
time he took a sip of his beverage the offending piece of cutlery poked him in
the eye.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    Slowly, as if she was talking to a toddler,
Lucretia continued. “Mr. W, rather than leaving your spoon in your cup,
you are forgetting something with your telescope,