In the days when Prof. Moses Stuart Phelps was a graduate student at New Haven he took a walk one morning with Prof. Newton, a man who lives in the world of mathematics and simply exists in the common world of ordinary things. Prof. Newton, as is his habit, started off on the discussion of an abstruse problem. As the Professor went deeper and deeper. Mr. Phelps' mind wandered further and further from what was being said. At last Mr. Phelps' attention was called back to his companion by the Professor's winding up with, "Which, you see, gives us 'X.'" "Does it?" asked Mr. Phelps, thinking that in politeness he ought to reply something. "Why, doesn't it?" excitedly exclaimed the Professor, alarmed at the possibility that a flaw had been detected in his calculations. Quickly, his mind ran back over the work. There had indeed, been a mistake. "You are right, Mr. Phelps, you are right," almost shouted the Professor. "It doesn't give us 'X;' it gives us 'y.'" And from that hour, Prof. Newton looked upon Mr. Phelps as a mathematical prodigy. He was the first man who had ever caught the Professor tripping. "And so," Mr. Phelps used often to add, with his own peculiar smile in telling the story, "I achieved a reputation for knowing a thing I hate. It's the way many reputations are made in this superficial world."-Ex.