ing mountains, craters, sharp peaks, etc. all around; old MAC
discovered taking observations with his levelling staff; BARBICAN
perched on the summit of a sharp pointed rock, writing up his note-book;
ARDAN, eye-glass on nose, hat under arm, legs apart, puffing at his
_Imperador_, like a--"

[Illustration: MAC DISCOVERED TAKING OBSERVATIONS.]

--"A locomotive!" interrupted the young Midshipman, his excitable
imagination so far getting the better of him as to make him forget his
manners. He had just finished Locke's famous MOON HOAX, and his brain
was still full of its pictures. "In the background," he went on, "can be
seen thousands of _Vespertiliones-Homines_ or _Man-Bats_, in all the
various attitudes of curiosity, alarm, or consternation; some of them
peeping around the rocks, some fluttering from peak to peak, all
gibbering a language more or less resembling the notes of birds. _Enter_
LUNATICO, King of the Selenites--"

"Excuse us, Mr. Midshipman," interrupted Brownson with an easy smile,
"Locke's authority may have great weight among the young Middies at
Annapolis, but it does not rank very high at present in the estimation
of practical scientists." This rebuff administered to the conceited
little Midshipman, a rebuff which the Doctor particularly relished,
Brownson continued: "Gentlemen, we certainly know nothing whatever
regarding our friends' fate; guessing gives no information. How we ever
are to hear from the Moon until we are connected with it by a lunar
cable, I can't even imagine. The probability is that we shall never--"

"Excuse me, Lieutenant," interrupted the unrebuffed little Midshipman;
"Can't Barbican write?"

A shout of derisive comments greeted this question.

"Certainly he can write, and send his letter by the Pony Express!" cried
one.

"A Postal Card would be cheaper!" cried another.

"The _New York Herald_ will send a reporter after it!" was the
exclamation of a third.

"Keep cool, just keep cool, gentlemen," persisted the little Midshipman,
not in the least abashed by the uproarious hilarity excited by his
remarks. "I asked if Barbican couldn't write. In that question I see
nothing whatever to laugh at. Can't a man write without being obliged to
send his letters?"

"This is all nonsense," said the Doctor. "What's the use of a man
writing to you if he can't send you what he writes?"

"What's the use of his sending it to you if he can have it read without
that trouble?" answered th