and shall never be moved. This is the one great
cause of man's inconstancy. He is constantly seeking after that which
shall satisfy the cravings of his never dying soul, but refuses the
light which God gives him. He sips from every cup of worldly pleasure,
and madly rushes after the sensation of the hour, be it good or bad. One
after the other, they pall upon his wearied senses, and he dashes them
from his lips in disgust. Happy alone is he who listens to that Voice,
'Come unto Me, and I will give you rest.'

That evening, before many thousands of people, our friends did what they
could to please them. They sang as they never had done in their lives.
It is unnecessary to say that their efforts were received with
tremendous rounds of encores by the delighted host. The music was
interspersed with appropriate speeches from the mayor and other civic
dignitaries. They all spoke in unlimited terms of praise of the man who
had conceived the idea of the aluminum globe, and who had had the
courage of his convictions. He had added undying glory to the land that
bore him, and now that land delighted to honor him by every means within
her power, etc.

The Doctor and Professor each spoke at some length, giving the history
of the expedition and the importance of it to the scientific world. The
Doctor told them of the planting of the aluminum flagstaff in terse,
graphic language, and concluded by saying:

"And now friends, we will conclude the evening's performance by giving
you an exact representation of how we marched about the flagstaff and
sang Professor Marsh's composition, 'The North Pole March.' You must
imagine the thermometer sixty or more degrees below zero in order to
appreciate the scene."

A fair representation of the foot of the flagstaff had been improvised,
and the stage was made to look like a field of snow and ice. In a circle
about the pole were set vessels of burning oil. Within this circle the
friends marched to the beautiful music that Fred played upon the
aluminum organ (for even that instrument had been brought by Denison and
Will from the globe, that the scene might lack nothing in realism.)

And so real was the scene as they marched in their sealskin suits--poor
Sing among them, though he could not sing--and so inspiring was the
music, that the vast assemblage sat still as death, every sense strained
to the highest tension, that they might not lose a movement nor note.
When they finished, the shout that