--I really must not waste so much gray matter, dear, over unimportant
details. But I simply had to tell you all about my struggles with the
clothes. When Ooma came back, just as I had mastered them with the aid
of her diagrams, the dear thing was so much pleased she actually hugged
me, and I must confess the effect made me forget my discomfort. Really,
an Earth girl is not so much to be pitied if she has becoming dresses to
wear. As you may be sure I was anxious to compare myself with others, I
was glad enough to hear Ooma suggest going out.
"Come on," she said, executively, "I have only a half-hour to devote to
your first walk. Keep close beside me, and remember on no account to
either dance or sing."
"But if I see others dancing may I not join them?" I inquired.
"You won't see anybody dancing on Broadway," she replied, a trifle
snubbily, but I resolved to escape from her as soon as possible and find
out for myself.
I shall never forget my shock on discovering the sky blue instead of the
color it should be, but soon my eyes became accustomed to the change. In
fact, I have not since that first moment been able to conceive of the
sky as anything but blue. And the city?--Oh, my dear, my dear, I never
expected to encounter anything so much out of key with the essential
euphonies. Of course I have not traveled very much, but I should say
there is nothing in the universe like a street they call
Broadway--unless it be upon the lesser satellite of Mars, where the poor
people are so awfully cramped for space. When I suggested this to Ooma
she laughed and called me clever, for it seems there is a tradition
that a mob of meddling Martians once stopped on Earth long enough to
give the foolish humans false ideas about architecture and many other
matters. But I soon forgot everything in my interest in the people. Such
a poor puzzle-headed lot they are. One's heart goes out to them at once
as they push and jostle one another this way and that, with no
conceivable object other than to get anywhere but where they are in the
shortest time possible. One longs to help them; to call a halt upon
their senseless struggles; to reason with them and explain how all the
psychic force they waste might, if exerted in constructive thought,
bring everything they wish to pass. Mrs. Bloomer assures me they only
ridicule those who venture to interfere, and it will take at least a
Saturn century to so much as start them in the right direction. Our
settlement is their only hope, she says, and even we can help them only
indirectly.
Not long ago, it appears, they had to choose a King or Mayor, or
whatever the creature is called who executes their silly laws, and our
people so manipulated the election that the choice fell on one of us.
I thought this a really good idea, and supposed, of course, we must at
once have set about demonstrating how a planet should be managed. But
no! that was not our system, if you please. Instead of making proper
laws our agent misbehaved himself in every way the committee could
suggest, until at last the humans rose against him and put one of
themselves in his place, and after that things went just a little better
than before. This is the only way in which they can be taught. But, dear
me, isn't it tedious?
Of course, I soon grew anxious for an exchange of thought with almost
any one, but it was a long while before I discovered a single person who
was not in a violent hurry. At last, however, we came upon a human
drawn apart a little from the throng, who stood with folded arms,
engaged apparently in lofty meditation. His countenance was amiable,
although a little red.
Saying nothing to Ooma of my purpose, I slipped away from her, and
looking up into the creature's eyes inquired mentally the subject of his
thoughts; also, how he came to be so inordinately stout, and why he wore
bright metal buttons on his garment. But my only answer was a stupid
blink, for his mentality seemed absolutely incapable of receiving
suggestions not expressed in sounds. I observed farther that his aura
inclined too much toward violet for perfect equipoise.
"G'wan out of this, and quit yer foolin'," he remarked, missing my
meaning altogether.
Of course I spoke then, using the human speech quite glibly for a first
attempt, and hastened to assure him that though I had no idea of
fooling, I should not go on until my curiosity had been satisfied. But
just then Ooma found me.
"My friend is a stranger," she explained to the brass-buttoned man.
"Then why don't you put a string to her?" he asked.
I learned later that I had been addressing one of the public jesters
employed by the community to keep Broadway from becoming intolerably
dull.
"But you must not speak to people in the street," said Ooma, "not even
to policemen."
"Then how am I to brighten others' lives?" I asked, more than a little
disappointed, for several humans hurrying past had turned upon me looks
indicating moods receptive of all the brightening I could give.
I might have amused myself indefinitely, studying the rapid succession
of varying faces, had not Bloomer cautioned me not to stare. She said
people would think me from the country, which is considered
discreditable, and as this reminded me that I had as yet seen nothing
growing, I asked to be shown the gardens and groves.
"There is one," she said, indicating an open space not far away, where
sure enough there stood some wretched looking trees which I had not
recognized before, forgetting that, of course, leaves here must be
green. I saw no flowers growing, but presently we came upon some in a
sort of crystal bower guarded by a powerful black person. I wanted so to
ask him how he came to be black, but the memory of my last attempt at
information deterred me. Instead, I inquired if I might have some roses.
"Walk in, Miss," he replied most civilly, and in I walked through the
door, past the sweetest little embryonic, who wore the vesture of a
young policeman.
"Boy," I said, "have you begun to realize your soul?"
"Nope," he replied. "I ain't in fractions yet."
--Some stage of earthly progress, I suppose, though I did not like a
certain movement of his eyelid, and one never can tell, you know, how
hard embryonics are really striving. So I made haste to gather all the
roses I could carry, and was about to hurry after Ooma, when a person
barred my way.
"Hold on!" he cried. "Ain't you forgetting something? Why don't you take
the whole lot?"
"Because I have all I want for the present," I answered, rather
frightened, perceiving that his aura had grown livid, and I don't know
how I could have soothed him had not Ooma once more come to my relief. I
could see that she was annoyed with me, but she controlled herself and
placed some token in the being's hand which acted on his agitation like
a charm.
As I told you, Bloomer had given me with the other things, a crown of
artificial roses which, now that I had real flowers to wear, I wanted to
throw away, but this she would not permit, insisting that such a
proceeding would make the humans laugh at me--though to look into their
serious faces one would not believe this possible. The thoughts of those
about me, as I divined them, seemed anything but jocular. They came to
me incoherent and inconsecutive, a jumble of conditional premises
leading to approximate conclusions expressed in symbols having no
intrinsic meaning.--Of course, it is unfair to judge too soon, but I
have already begun to doubt the existence of direct perception among
them.--What did you say, dear?--Bother direct perception?--Well, I
wonder how _we_ should like to apprehend nothing that could not be put
into words? You, I'm sure, would have the most confused ideas about
Earthly conditions if you depended entirely upon my remarks.--Now
concentrate, and you shall hear something really interesting.
--No, not the One yet.--He comes later.--
We had not gone far, I carrying my roses, and Bloomer not too well
pleased, as I fancied, because so many people turned to look at us
(Bloomer has retrograded physically until she is at times almost
Uranian, probably as the result of wearing black, which appears to be
the chromatic equivalent of respectability), when suddenly I became
sensible of a familiar influence, which was quite startling because so
unexpected. Looking everywhere, I caught sight of--who do you suppose?
Our old friend Tuk.--Mr. Tuck, T-u-c-k here, if you please. He was about
to enter a--a means of transportation, and though his back was towards
me, I recognized that drab aura of his at once, and projected a
reactionary impulse which was most effective.
In his surprise he was for the moment in danger of being trampled upon
by a rapidly moving animal.--Yes, dear, I said "animal."--I don't know
and I don't consider it at all important. I do not pretend to be
familiar with mundane zoölogy.--Tuck declared himself delighted to see
me, and so I believe he was, though he controlled his radiations in the
supercilious way he always had. But upon one point he did not leave me
long in doubt. Externally, at least, my Earthly Ego is a--
(NOTE: _The word which signifies a species of peach or nectarine
peculiar to the planet Mercury is doubtless used here in a symbolic
sense._)
--I caught on to that most interesting fact the moment his eyes rested
on me.
"By all that's fair to look upon!" he cried, jumping about in a manner
human people think eccentric, "are you astral or actualized?"
"See for yourself," I said, holding out my hand, which it took him
rather longer than necessary to make sure of.
"Well, what on Earth brings you here? Come down to paint another planet
red?" he rattled on, believing himself amusing.
"Now haven't I as much right to light on Earth as on any other bit of
cosmic dust?" I asked, laughing and forgetting how much snubbing he
requires in the delight of seeing any one I knew.
Then he insisted that I had a "date" with him.--A date, as I discovered
later, means something nice to eat--and hinted very broadly that Bloomer
need not wait if she had more important matters to attend to. I must
confess she did not seem at all sorry to have me taken off her hands,
for after cautioning me to beware of a number of things I did not so
much as know by name, she shot off like a respectable old aerolite with
a black trail streaming out behind. If she remains here much longer she
will be coming back upon a mission to reform _us_. As for Tuck, he
became insufferably patronizing at once.
"Well, how do you like the Only Planet? and how do you like the Only
Town? and how do you like the Only Street?" he began, waving his hands
and looking about him as though there were anything here that one of
_us_ could admire. But, of course, I refused to gratify him with my
crude impressions. I simply said:
"You appear very well pleased with them yourself."
"And so will you be," he replied, "when you have realized their
possibilities. Remark that elderly entity across the street. I have to
but exert my will that he shall sneeze and drop his eyeglasses, and
behold, there they go."--Yes, my dear, eyeglasses. They are worn on the
nose by people who imagine they can not see very well.
"I consider such actions cruel and unkind," I said, at the same time
willing an embryonic girl to pick the glasses up, and though the child
was rather beyond my normal circle, I was delighted to see her obey. But
I have an idea Tuck regretted an experiment which taught me something I
might not have found out, at least for a while.
I had now been on Earth several hours, and change of atmosphere gives
one a ravenous appetite. You see, I had forgotten to ask Ooma how, and
how often, humans ate, so when Tuck suggested breakfast as a form of
entertainment I put myself in sympathy with the idea at once. Besides it
is most important to know just where to find the things you want, and
you may be sure I made a lot of mental notes when we came, as presently
we did, to a tower called Astoria.
I understand that the upper portions of the edifice are used for study
of the Stars, but we were made welcome on the lower story by a stately
being, who conducted us to honorable seats in an inner court. There were
small trees growing here, green, of course, but rather pretty for all
that; the people, gathered under their shade in little groups, were much
more cheerful and sustaining than any I had seen so far, and an
elemental intelligence detailed to minister to our wants seemed
well-trained and docile.
"Here you have a glimpse of High Life," announced Tuck, when he had
written something on a paper.
"The Higher Life?" I inquired, eagerly, and I did not like the flippant
tone in which he answered:
"No, not quite--just high enough."
I was beginning to be so bored by his conceit and self-complacency that
I cast my eyes about and smiled at several pleasant-looking persons, who
returned the smile and nodded in a friendly fashion, till I could
perceive Tuck's aura bristle and turn greenish-brown.
"You can't possibly see any one you know here," he protested, crossly.
"All the better reason why I should reach out in search of affinities,"
I retorted. But after that, though I was careful to keep my eyes lowered
most of the time, I resolved to come some day to the Astoria alone and
smile at every one I liked. I don't believe I should ever know a human
if Tuck could have his way.
Presently the elemental brought us delicious things, and while we ate
them Tuck talked about himself. It appears he has produced an opera here
which is a success. People throng to hear it and consider him a great
composer. At all of which, you may believe, I was astonished--just fancy
our Tuk posing as a genius!--but presently when he became elated by the
theme and hummed a bar or two, I understood. The wretch had simply
actualized a few essential harmonies--and done it very badly. I see now
why he likes so much being here, and understand why his associates are
almost altogether human. I don't remember ever meeting with such deceit
and effrontery before. I was so indignant that I could feel my astral
fingers tremble. I could not bear to look at him, and as by that time I
had eaten all I could, I rose and walked directly from the court without
another word. I am sure he would have pursued me had not the elemental,
divining my wish to escape, detained him forcibly.
Once in the street again, I immediately hypnotized an old lady, willing
her to go direct to Bloomer's Boarding-House while I followed behind. It
may not have been convenient for her, I am afraid, but I knew of no
other way to get back.--Dear me, the light is growing dim, and I must be
dressing for the evening. Good-by!--By the way, I forgot to tell you
something else that happened--remind me of it next time!