"Of course," said the captain.
"And how many days will make a month?" asked the professor.
"I suppose sixty or sixty-two, as the case may be.
The days now are only half as long as they used to be,"
answered the captain.
"Servadac, don't be thoughtless!" cried Rosette, with all the petulant
impatience of the old pedagogue. "If the days are only half as long
as they were, sixty of them cannot make up a twelfth part of Gallia's year--
cannot be a month."
"I suppose not," replied the confused captain.
"Do you not see, then," continued the astronomer, "that if
a Gallian month is twice as long as a terrestrial month,
and a Gallian day is only half as long as a terrestrial day,
there must be a hundred and twenty days in every month?"
"No doubt you are right, professor," said Count Timascheff;
"but do you not think that the use of a new calendar such as this
would practically be very troublesome?"
"Not at all! not at all! I do not intend to use any other,"
was the professor's bluff reply.
After pondering for a few moments, the captain spoke again.
"According, then, to this new calendar, it isn't the middle
of May at all; it must now be some time in March."
"Yes," said the professor, "to-day is the 26th
of March. It is the 266th day of the Gallian year.
It corresponds with the 133d day of the terrestrial year.
You are quite correct, it is the 26th of March."
"Strange!" muttered Servadac.
"And a month, a terrestrial month, thirty old days, sixty new days hence,
it will be the 86th of March."
"Ha, ha!" roared the captain; "this is logic with a vengeance!"
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