and tons of debris, crashing down the mountains, are swallowed up forever in the yawing chasms of the bottomless craters." "Bravo!" cried Ardan, clapping his hands softly: "our President is sublime! He reminds me of the overture of _Guillaume Tell_!" "Souvenir de Marston!" growled M'Nicholl. "These phenomena," continued Barbican, heedless of interruption and his voice betraying a slight glow of excitement, "these phenomena going on without interruption from month to month, from year to year, from age to age, from _eon_ to _eon_, have finally convinced me that--what?" he asked his hearers, interrupting himself suddenly. --"That the existence at the present time--" answered M'Nicholl. --"Of either animal or vegetable life--" interrupted Ardan. --"In the Moon is hardly possible!" cried both in one voice. "Besides?" asked Barbican: "even if there _is_ any life--?" --"That to live on the dark side would be much more inconvenient than on the light side!" cried M'Nicholl promptly. --"That there is no choice between them!" cried Ardan just as ready. "For my part, I should think a residence on Mt. Erebus or in Grinnell Land a terrestrial paradise in comparison to either. The _Earth shine_ might illuminate the light side of the Moon a little during the long night, but for any practical advantage towards heat or life, it would be perfectly useless!" "But there is another serious difference between the two sides," said Barbican, "in addition to those enumerated. The dark side is actually more troubled with excessive variations of temperature than the light one." "That assertion of our worthy President," interrupted Ardan, "with all possible respect for his superior knowledge, I am disposed to question." "It's as clear as day!" said Barbican. "As clear as mud, you mean, Mr. President;" interrupted Ardan, "the temperature of the light side is excited by two objects at the same time, the Earth and the Sun, whereas--" --"I beg your pardon, Ardan--" said Barbican. --"Granted, dear boy--granted with the utmost pleasure!" interrupted the Frenchman. "I shall probably have to direct my observations altogether to you, Captain," continued Barbican; "friend Michael interrupts me so often that I'm afraid he can hardly understand my remarks." "I always admired your candor, Barbican," said Ardan; "it's a noble quality, a grand quality!"