In the near distance they saw Venus, a superb sapphire globe called the
Planet of Love and beyond it Mars with his fiery light; then Saturn
yellow as an orange; Jupiter all crimson and purple, and farther still,
Uranus scintillating with a vivid white light, while at an immeasurable
distance Neptune was wrapped in changing shades of blue and green.
The Earth party with their guide passed quickly by the little
vari-colored stars and the larger ones which formed the different
constellations or groups of stars through which they were traveling,
such as the Great Bear, the Pleiades, Leo, and others too numerous to
mention, until they came to the satellite island belonging to Venus.
Here they landed and mingled with the inhabitants, first expressing the
wish that they become like the planet natives so they could go about
unnoticed. This wish their accommodating robes immediately made possible
and then they stood dressed in loose flowing Greek robes, with sandals
on their feet and hair dressed in a Psyche knot or in clustering curls
confined by golden bands.
“My! how becoming that costume is to you. You look like Venus herself
come to life,” exclaimed the Princess to Ione.
“Well, I can return the compliment a hundredfold,” answered Ione, “for I
never saw you look more lovely than you do now with your dark loose
ringlets held in place by that band of gold.”
“She certainly does look lovely enough to kiss,” exclaimed the Prince,
“and I think I will steal one, for who has a better right?”
“Ione, you really look more beautiful than you did when we were married,
and that I thought impossible,” laughed Harold.
The boys had been so taken up admiring the girls that they had forgotten
to wish their clothes changed until Ione reminded them.
“Hurry and change your costumes for I am dying to see how you will
appear in the ancient Greek dress with bare neck, arms, and legs and
with your feet encased in high laced sandals.”
When Harold’s ordinary American clothes were changed for those of
ancient Greece, Ione said, “Oh, Harold, you look like a young gladiator
with your well-developed muscles and strong round throat. As for the
Prince he is a perfect Adonis. Don’t you think so, Princess?”
Before the latter could answer their Mercurian guide said, “You
certainly are a fine-looking quartette. I doubt if even on this island
we find any who surpass you in beauty or in strength, though this is the
land where the perfection of physical beauty is supposed to be found.”
“We thank you for the compliment,” said Ione.
This conversation took place in a beautiful park where winding paths led
to sylvan retreats; where miniature lakes were studded with
pleasure-boats, sailing slowly along filled with happy, laughing people;
where flowers of every hue and color filled the air with sweet, spicy
perfumes; and where birds of endless variety and color of plumage bathed
in the sparkling fountains or flitted and sang among the branches of the
trees. Coming toward them, hand in hand along one of the many footpaths,
were two beautiful beings accompanied by little flying cupids who at
times lighted on their shoulders, then again on their heads, or flew
about chasing each other, cooing like so many white doves.
“Is not that a pretty family group?” asked the guide. “The two who are
walking hand in hand are husband and wife while the little cupids are
their children. All children on this island have wings and at night
sleep in huge nodding flowers which fold their petals about them and
sway to and fro until they are lulled to sleep.”
At this moment the two approached and the guide introduced them to the
young strangers. Having cordially welcomed the Earth party to the
island, they invited them to a four o’clock tea at their home and also
for a sail on the lake to which they were now on their way.
Our young people gladly availed themselves of the courtesy extended to
them and after walking a short distance through a shady wood they came
to the bank of a gleaming blue lake whose rippling waters flashed back
the sparkling sunbeams, and on whose surface floated unique and dainty
pleasure-boats. Into one of these they stepped and soon were sailing
quietly along, enjoying both the refreshing breezes and the beauty of
the scene. The shore line was dotted with villas which looked like
fairy-palaces, so exquisite were they in coloring and design, while back
of them rose purple-hued hills, a most effective background. While they
sailed our young people told their new friends something of themselves
and their experiences while traveling in space. All was listened to with
intense interest. When they had finished telling about the magic power
of their wishing-robes, their entertainers asked if they would mind
exhibiting themselves in their native costumes.
“Certainly not,” said Ione, “we would be delighted to do so, but our
garments will seem strange and perhaps even ridiculous to you. If they
do, you may laugh as much as ever you like for I assure you we will not
be offended in the least.”
“One, two, three. Presto change,” said Harold, and there stood four
oddly attired people looking unlike anything their Venus friends had
ever seen or dreamed of. They might have been mistaken for figures of
wax shown in a museum but that Ione laughed outright when she saw the
wide-open eyes and astonished expressions on the faces of their friends.
“Well, how do you like our native garments?” she asked. “You know that
the Prince and the Princess live on one continent of the Earth, while
Harold and I live on another and that accounts for the differences in
our style of dress.”
“Which style do you prefer?” asked the Princess of the beautiful little
lady from Venus.
“Oh, yours,” she replied. “Your attire is much more artistic and natural
than the other more sombre garb. Your white blouse, blue velvet jacket
embroidered with gold, soft silken sash, golden anklets, and slippers
turned up at the toes, all are harmonious and beautiful I think, while
the white turban of the Prince and his white skirts held in place by
that knotted sash, and the dagger at his side, all are more to my taste
than those queer-looking narrow bags which you (turning to Harold) wear,
and which you call trousers or than that high, stiff starched garment
you call a shirt. How you can breathe one minute in it is more than I
can tell, while I should think the collar would saw your ears off.”
At this they all laughed for they could well understand how funny and
absurd their costumes must look to any one used only to loose robes and
soft, clinging draperies. As for Ione, the Islanders wondered why she
did not break in two, locked in her steel girdle as they called her
corsets. And her French-heeled shoes! They were the limit of absurdity
and how she managed to walk and not fall on her nose at every step she
took was more than they could understand. The planet people had a great
deal of fun over each separate garment and seemed to enjoy inspecting
them so much that our young friends decided to give them a surprise and
at the same time to show them sights which no native of Venus, alive or
dead, had ever before witnessed. They were told to look overhead and
there soon appeared reproduced there, panorama-like, the different
peoples of the earth. In this way could be seen the native costumes of
all Earth people from the Chinaman to the fashionable French woman.
The Venusians clapped their hands with delight as the different views
passed before them for they had not known that there were people who
looked or dressed so unlike themselves.
On their way to the Villa where they were to take tea, the Venusians
asked our friends if they would not like to walk through the garden
where their little cupid babies slept, while they looked to see that
they were all tucked in their flower-beds warm and safe for the night.
“Over each baby a white pigeon keeps watch so that if anything is wanted
or if they cry out, the bird flies to our window, taps, and we
immediately come to see what is needed.”
“Oh, may we have just one peep?” cried the girls, as they leaned over a
large white rose in which was curled up fast asleep a tiny little cupid
with light, curly hair.
“You see,” explained the mother, “the little blonde cupids sleep in
white flowers while the brunettes repose in red ones. In this way it is
easy to distinguish them. Every evening at sundown they fly to their
particular flower and cuddle down for the night, while a gentle breeze
sways the flowers and nightingales sing until they are lulled to sleep.”
“What would I not give for one of the little dimpled darlings,” said
Ione.
“And I, too,” added the Princess. “I should love to have one all my own
to hug and kiss.”
“Some day a stork or an angel may bring you one,” said the little
cupid’s mother, “for I know they often take babies to Earth.”
The Villa looked more like a dainty summer-house than a place in which
to live, for it was all open windows, doors and verandas. The sun shone
in all day and only soft, warm breezes murmured through it at night.
After a dainty repast, our travelers said “goodnight” and “good-bye” to
their charming and hospitable friends and then wished themselves on the
Satellite Island of Mars and here they immediately found themselves.