in this incident he did not
appear in the least disconcerted. This unexpected intoxication broke the
monotony of the journey. Many foolish things had been said under its
influence, but they had been forgotten as soon as said.

"Then," added the merry Frenchman, "I am not sorry for having
experienced the effect of this captious gas. Do you know, my friends,
that there might be a curious establishment set up with oxygen-rooms,
where people whose constitutions are weak might live a more active life
during a few hours at least? Suppose we had meetings where the air could
be saturated with this heroic fluid, theatres where the managers would
send it out in strong doses, what passion there would be in the souls of
actors and spectators, what fire and what enthusiasm! And if, instead of
a simple assembly, a whole nation could be saturated with it, what
activity, what a supplement of life it would receive! Of an exhausted
nation it perhaps would make a great and strong nation, and I know more
than one state in old Europe that ought to put itself under the oxygen
_regime_ in the interest of its health."

Michel spoke with as much animation as if the tap were still full on.
But with one sentence Barbicane damped his enthusiasm.

"All that is very well, friend Michel," he said, "but now perhaps you
will tell us where those fowls that joined in our concert came from."

"Those fowls?"

"Yes."

In fact, half-a-dozen hens and a superb cock were flying hither and
thither.

"Ah, the stupids!" cried Michel. "It was the oxygen that put them in
revolt."

"But what are you going to do with those fowls?" asked Barbicane.

"Acclimatise them in the moon of course! For the sake of a joke, my
worthy president; simply a joke that has unhappily come to nothing! I
wanted to let them out on the lunar continent without telling you! How
astounded you would have been to see these terrestrial poultry pecking
the fields of the moon!"

"Ah, _gamin_, you eternal boy!" answered Barbicane, "you don't want
oxygen to make you out of your senses! You are always what we were under
the influence of this gas! You are always insane!"

"Ah! how do we know we were not wiser then?" replied Michel Ardan.

After this philosophical reflection the three friends repaired the
disorder in the projectile. Cock and hens were put back in their cage.
But as they were doing this Barbicane and his two companions distinctly
perceived a fresh phenomenon.

Since the