onderful ascents made in that terrible time, none is
more interesting than that of M. Janssen, a great astronomer, who went
to Algeria to see an eclipse of the sun. Certain learned societies in
France, very anxious that the progress of science should not be delayed
by this unhappy war, were delighted to find him willing to undertake
the dangerous journey. England offered to obtain a safe-conduct for him
through the Prussian camp, but the astronomer said: 'No, thank you. I do
not wish to be under any obligation to the enemy.'

So, packing his telescope and other instruments with very great care, he
carried them to the Gare d'Orleans on the morning of the 2nd December
(three weeks before the eclipse would take place), and, settling himself
in the car of his white balloon, the 'Volta,' gave orders for the anchor
to be weighed. At that time in the morning it was quite dark, and, ere
daylight was an hour old, he and his companion (a young sailor) had come
to earth again by the mouth of the Loire. They had travelled nearly
three hundred miles in a little more than three hours. A swifter journey
has hardly ever been made. It is disappointing to learn that, after such
a daring exploit, M. Janssen reached his destination only to find dense
clouds covering the Algerian sky at the moment the eclipse took place.

The frequency with which balloons left Paris soon made it necessary to
increase the number of aeronauts, for those who departed were, of
course, unable to return. As the professional men became fewer, it was
found that the best to take their places were sailors. But, that they
might first have lessons in the art, a car was suspended from the roof
of the factory, and into this the sailor-pupil climbed. He soon learned
how to cry out, 'Let go all!' Then, after throwing out the ballast,
pulling the valve-rope, and dropping the anchor, he was ready, with more
courage than discretion, to call himself an aeronaut. And into the air
he went, with bags of letters and cages of pigeons, and, on the whole,
succeeded very well as a postman in the clouds.

The mention of pigeons leads us to another story of ingenuity, though it
has not much to do with balloons.

After the question of how to dispatch letters had been solved, the next
that arose was, how to receive replies. The balloons that _left_ the
city had got nearly all Europe to settle in, but it was hopeless to try
to steer them back to so small a spot as the city itself. But a