"Jules Verne - In the Year 2889 (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Verne Jules)

the meantime."
Finally, the fourth announces the imminent solution of a weighty scientific
problem. Everyone remembers the bold experiment made 100 years ago by Dr.
Nathaniel Faithburn. The doctor, being a firm believer in human hibernation--in
other words, the possibility of our suspending our vital functions and of
calling them into action again after a time--resolved to subject the theory to a
practical test. To this end, having first made his last will and pointed out the
proper method of awakening him; having also directed that his sleep was to
continue a hundred years to a day from the date of his apparent death, he
unhesitatingly put the theory to the proof in his own person. Reduced to the
condition of a mummy, Dr. Faithburn was coffined and laid in a tomb. Time went
on. September 25th, 2889 being the day set for his resurrection, it is proposed
that Mr. Smith permit the second part of the experiment to be performed at his
residence this evening.
"Agreed. Be here at 10 o'clock," answers Mr. Smith; and with that the day's
audience is closed.
Left to himself, feeling tired, he lies down on an extension chair. Then,
touching a knob, he establishes communication with the Central Concert Hall,
whence our greatest maestros send out to subscribers their delightful
successions of accords determined by recondite algebraic formulas. Night
approaches. Entranced by the harmony, forgetful of the hour, Smith does not
notice that it is growing dark. Indeed, it is quite dark when the sound of a
door opening arouses him. "Who is there?" he asks, touching a commutator.
Suddenly, in consequence of the vibrations produced, the air becomes luminous.
The room fills with light, and Smith recognizes his visitor.
"Ah! You, Doctor?"
"Yes," is the reply. "How are you?"
"I am feeling well."
"Good! Let me see your tongue. All right! Your pulse. Regular! And your
appetite?"
"Only passably good."
"Yes, the stomach. There's the rub. You are overworked. If your stomach is out
of repair, it must be mended. That requires study. We must think about it."
"In the meantime," says Mr. Smith, "you will dine with me."
As in the morning, the table rises out of the floor. Again, as in the morning,
the food-pipes supply soup, roast, ragouts, and legumes. Toward the close of the
meal, phonotelephotic communication is made with Paris. Smith sees his wife,
seated alone at the dinner table, looking anything but pleased at her
loneliness.
"Pardon me, my dear, for having left you alone," he says through the telephone.
"Dr. Wilkins is here."
"Ah, the good doctor!" remarks Mrs. Smith, her countenance lighting up.
"Yes. But, pray, when are you coming home?"
"This evening."
"Very well. Do you come by tube or by air-train?"
"Oh, by tube."
"Yes; and at what hour will you arrive?"
"About eleven, I suppose."
"Eleven by Centropolis time, you mean?"
"Yes."