ished, Ah Sing, who stood
in the doorway with his white cap and apron on, encored loudly.

"Velly good. Me heap likee," was his verdict.

"It takes the 'Children of the Skies' to sing that hymn!" cried Denison.

"Hear! Hear!" said Mrs. Jones, clapping her hands. "Isn't that poetic
and appropriate? The Children of the Skies! That was an inspiration on
your part, Mr. Denison."

Several more pieces were sung, and the newness of their position began
to wear off toward evening. After this the rooms were assigned to each
by the Doctor, who was by common consent, recognized as captain of the
ship. Himself and wife occupied the largest of the sleeping apartments,
a beautiful bedroom, twelve feet square. How pure, sweet, and clean they
all were! The ceilings, walls, floors, and furniture, all of that
marvelous metal, aluminum. Rugs laid about as required were the only
covering upon the floors. At six o'clock, Sing announced dinner. As they
repaired to the dining-room and sat in the dainty aluminum chairs about
the aluminum table, set with a complete service of the same metal, they
could not repress their expressions of delight. They sat with bowed
heads while Dr. Jones invoked the Divine blessing upon the food of which
they were about to partake, and asked His special protection and care
during the unknown perils before them. As the meal progressed, they grew
quite talkative and merry.

"This is high living in more senses than one," remarked Fred as he
finished a plate of soup.

"Yes," returned Mrs. Jones, "we have picked up a jewel of a cook."

"How are you getting along, girls?" cried the genial Doctor, from the
lower end of the table where he sat carving the meat.

"Just splendidly, Doctor," replied Mattie, gaily. "Your picnic is
turning out to be a grander success than you ever could have dreamed
of."

"I don't know," he returned as his eye swept about the room and out of
the window. "I had my ideas up pretty high, but I must admit that this
rather exceeds my highest flights of imagination."

"My ideal of pleasure, so far as eating goes, used to be that of sitting
in a Pullman dining-car, flying at the rate of forty miles an hour or
more. I have spent an hour at such a table more than once, looking out
of the great windows as I ate, and thought I knew all about it. But ah!
I had never dined with the 'Children of the Skies,'" said Will.

And so they pleasantly chatted through the meal. Mrs. Jones, who sat at
the