Had the poor melancholy Dane, Hamlet, lived in this, the twentieth century, he would never have given voice to the remark, “Oh, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew!” No indeed! He would have procured some of the mysterious fluid compounded by an erudite scientist by which things animate and inanimate were rendered non est, for ten minutes at least, by simply spraying them with it. In an atomizer, he sends a quantity, accompanied by a letter, to his brother. In the hope of his putting it on the market. The brother regards it as a joke, and, while toying with the atomizer, accidentally sprays himself. Presto! he is gone, to the amazement of the messenger boy who has carried the package thither. The boy reads the letter, and at once sees the amount of fun he can get out of it, so he nips it.
The Invisible Fluid
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