endid than you can possibly imagine, standing up bold and shining in
the sunlight.

'You would like a bath,' said the Captain, as the hairy elephant went
clumsily down on his knees. 'It's customary, you know, before entering
the Presence. We have baths for men, women, horses, and cattle. The High
Class Baths are here. Our Father Poseidon gave us a spring of hot water
and one of cold.'

The children had never before bathed in baths of gold.

'It feels very splendid,' said Cyril, splashing.

'At least, of course, it's not gold; it's or--what's its name,' said
Robert. 'Hand over that towel.'

The bathing hall had several great pools sunk below the level of the
floor; one went down to them by steps.

'Jimmy,' said Anthea timidly, when, very clean and boiled-looking, they
all met in the flowery courtyard of the Public, 'don't you think all
this seems much more like NOW than Babylon or Egypt--? Oh, I forgot,
you've never been there.'

'I know a little of those nations, however,' said he, 'and I quite agree
with you. A most discerning remark--my dear,' he added awkwardly; 'this
city certainly seems to indicate a far higher level of civilization than
the Egyptian or Babylonish, and--'

'Follow me,' said the Captain. 'Now, boys, get out of the way.' He
pushed through a little crowd of boys who were playing with dried
chestnuts fastened to a string.

'Ginger!' remarked Robert, 'they're playing conkers, just like the kids
in Kentish Town Road!'

They could see now that three walls surrounded the island on which they
were. The outermost wall was of brass, the Captain told them; the next,
which looked like silver, was covered with tin; and the innermost one
was of oricalchum.

And right in the middle was a wall of gold, with golden towers and
gates.

'Behold the Temples of Poseidon,' said the Captain. 'It is not lawful
for me to enter. I will await your return here.'

He told them what they ought to say, and the five people from Fitzroy
Street took hands and went forward. The golden gates slowly opened.

'We are the children of the Sun,' said Cyril, as he had been told, 'and
our High Priest, at least that's what the Captain calls him. We have a
different name for him at home.' 'What is his name?' asked a white-robed
man who stood in the doorway with his arms extended.

'Ji-jimmy,' replied Cyril, and he hesitated as Anthea had done.
It really did seem to be taking a great liberty with so learned a
gentleman. 'And