(_EXTRACT FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF THE SECRETARY OF THE EARTH AND MARS
INTERCOMMUNICATION COMPANY, LIMITED._)
_August_ 10, 1899.--Open this book just to jot down briefly the
results of our efforts to hold a conversation with the people living
in the adjacent planet. Get a better notion by this means of what
we are doing than the minutes can afford. Shall leave this book as
an heirloom to my successors in office. In 1892, when we were last
nearest Mars (only at a distance of 35,000,000 miles or thereabouts),
we came to the conclusion that the Marsians were trying to speak to
us. They seemed to be making signals. With the assistance of our new
telescope (six times as powerful as that of seven years ago), we made
out what we took to be at first an old man waving a white hat. On more
careful inspection, found that the old man was a volcano in a state of
eruption. White hat evidently the smoke. Could distinctly locate the
ocean. Unable to discover more, as the planet went off for another
seven years' cruise.
_August_ 10, 1906.--Jot down, in compliance with the wishes of my
predecessor, the transactions of the Company. By the way, my new berth
is a very pleasant one. Have nothing to do except every seven years,
when we all have to watch Mars like anything. This time we have a
first-class telescope. Fifty times as powerful as the one of seven
years ago. Can count the hairs on a man's head at ten miles' distance.
Mars seems quite close to us. There is a first-class hotel on one
of the mountains, and apparently a very good paper, which by the way
(like everything else on the planet), is red. Distinctly made out a
man in a boat. Could not attract his attention. Stupid donkey! Have to
wait for another seven years.
_August_ 10, 1913.--Again ready. Better telescope than one in use
seven years ago. Find we can now read the Marsian newspapers. They are
written in same language as our own. Nothing in them worth quoting.
Evidently "silly season" over there as well as here. Account of
the Sea Serpent. Let off patent sky-shattering rockets, but the
inhabitants of the adjacent planet failed to observe them. They have
arranged bonfires in geometrical order, so far as we can understand
it, as a signal (if it is one); they seem to wish to observe something
like "_Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay_." Interesting. Popular song of fourteen
years ago just reached our nearest neighbour in the Solar System.
Cannot observe more, as the planet is off for another seven years.
_August_ 10, 1920.--We ought to do something this time. Improved
telescope; can see everything. So excellent that we can almost hear
the Marsians talking, Great advance, too, in through-space-hurling
machinery. We applied this new power to a pea-shooter, and, at the
first shot, was sufficiently fortunate to hit a Marsian policeman on
the nose. He first arrested an innocent person for the assault, but,
on our repeating the signal, he looked up, and shook his fist at the
Earth. Eventually he traced the source of the pea-shooting. They then
began to watch our signals. They were just about to reply when we
started off for another seven years.
_August_ 10, 1927.--I take up my predecessor's book to continue these
observations. Deeply interested to see if the inhabitants of the
neighbouring planet would remember the date, and be on the look out
for us. Yes, there they were. We have just signalled "How are you?"
But it has received, as yet, no reply. The Marsians seem to be
signalling, but not in our direction. We have just tried another
message, "Good morning; do you use soap?" Ah, this has woke them up!
They _do_ understand us. They have replied, "Don't be rude." We are
greatly encouraged by this, and have signalled "The planet Mars, we
believe?" This has elicited no response. Strange! We have begged for a
reply, and it has just come. Here it is:--"Don't bother; can't attend
to you just now. We are talking with the planet Jupiter." Time up! Off
for another seven years!
_August_ 10, 1934.--Just one line to add to the other communications
of my predecessors. The Earth and Mars Intercommunication Company,
Limited, has been merged into the London, Jupiter, Venus, Mars, and
North Saturn Aërial Railway Company. During the present near approach
of Mars to the Earth, an excursion electric air-torpedo train will
leave the Victoria Station for Pars the Capital of Mars. The excursion
will be personally conducted by Baron COOK of Ludgate Circus. Return
tickets, Second Class, £1,000; First Class (with hotel coupons), Half
an ounce of coal.
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[Illustration: "WILL THEY WORK?"
LORD ROSEBERY (_aside to McHARCOURT, the Gillie_). "WONDER WHAT SORT
OF A BAG HE'LL MAKE--_OVER THOSE DOGS!!_"]
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