e a more natural familiarity.

"Happy? No more than for my feet, my ears, or my life," she answered in
a more composed manner. "You say that you are from another world. Where
can that be?" was her welcome query.

Then I pointed my finger in the direction of our world and remarked:

"If you could travel in that direction on swift wings day and night for
a few millions of years, you would still be far, far away from the world
where I live."

"And is that world inhabited by sensible creatures?"

"It is."

"But how could you have traversed so great a distance?"

"Never can I explain that mystery to you. Be content that I am here."

"Are you in the image of the other human creatures in that far away
world?"

"In general they are all fashioned as I am."

"No one having wings?" she added with surprise.

"Not one."

"How can that be true?"

"Because we were made without them."

"And have you no way of moving through the air at pleasure?"

"Not without artificial machinery."

"Artificial machinery?" she repeated. "What can you mean by that?"

Of course they have no word for balloon or flying machine, and I found
it difficult to describe the shape and explain the philosophy of these
things. I did the best I could in her language, and after I had finished
my description she for the first time smiled and said:

"That sort of a construction would be a fine thing for the indolents of
our world who, through misuse or lack of use of their wings, have no
more ability to fly."

This was interesting to me and I closely inquired as to the cause of
this loss of the wing power. Plume grew more and more familiar in her
address and in a long conversation told me of the many conditions that
make people unfit to fly. I deduce from our conversation a few of these
causes.

1. Simple neglect.

2. Gluttonous life.

3. Sensuality of a low and heavy life.

4. Pride. Some yield to a superstitious notion that it is honorable to
make but little display of themselves, and allow their wings to be bound
or partly clipped.

5. Certain kinds of sickness render the wing-chords inoperative.

I learned that altogether nearly one-half of the population are unable
to fly. How my mind flew back to our own life as I was learning of these
sad conditions. There is a sort of a life on wings in our world,
although the wings are invisible. But on account of the low, mean lives
so many are living, they never rise above the miasmic contagio