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It was only at the estate sale that I heard Professor Elderbridge had died. The widow Elderbridge was not particularly upset by this development, however. Indeed, not only had she been expecting it for years, but she and the Professor had not been on the best of terms since his jaunts to newer and exciting reaches of the globe began. Still, she told us between sips of Earl Gray tea she made sure to point out had been purchased fresh from the airship India; it was her duty as his wife to dole out his small army of apparatuses to those of us amongst the scientific community who would gain the most use from them. I had, being a nartheciumolgist and sometimes librarian, assumed I would receive a few unwieldy, ancient tombs from the Professor’s private collection that had, no doubt, been obtained in some unpronounceable, foreign temple.
This was not the case. Perhaps the widow Elderbridge or whomever else had been placed in charge of the Professor’s last will and testament was unable to read his tiny chicken scrawl. Or perhaps, and I suspect this is more likely the case, my bequeathal is simply the Professor’s notoriously obtuse sense of humor at work, for he has left to me, and I quote: Lot 74, Portable Insect Containment Unit and Terrarium.
Perhaps it is a play on “bookworm”. Or else the Professor believes the hitherto undocumented moss rattling about the bottom of the jar to have some sort of medical properties I might be interested in. However, as I am not at all keen on accidentally encountering an equally hitherto undocumented species of stinging insect inside, it is with regret that I must leave the stained and scrawled upon paper where it is.
A pity, really. I am told the Professor was carrying the Terrarium with him upon his death. I would expect the paper inside is likely one of his last remaining journal entries. Though, knowing the Professor, it could just as likely be a recipe for tea.
(Kit for sale here)
(nartheciumology – the study of other people’s medicine cabinets.)
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I made this pistol because as an airship librarian, I absolutely cannot imagine keeping one of those unwieldy steam flintlocks on my hip. But then, pirate attacks
do happen and it is necessary to be prepared for these things.
I imagine there must be other women who feel the same.