“Where is the room for them?” “All bad men will be killed off.” “Who will kill them off?” “He that comes out of the sky.” “Their spirits would haunt him.” “He would kill their spirits, too.” “None but God can do that.” “He is the Son of God.” “O, is God married?” so impiously, I lose heart. But Roban comes to my aid. With shining expectant eyes she now interrogates me. “When will He come?” I shake my head. “_Who_ will He bring to life?” persisting. “Those who love Him. O dear, dear Roban, do you love God?” I am pleading for a soul. “That I do,” is her positive confession. “Do you love His Son?” my hands clasped toward her. “Anything that belongs to Him,” so beatifies me I spring to my feet to declare: “Then _you_ will be saved, for love is the fulfilling of the law.” Drops sprinkle all about. I look back of me to see Saucy with inspired face who has been listening. Thus bestowing this rite upon this new convert, who strangely takes on a serious look. “I know whom you mean,” she says. “He does like this,” pointing her hands as in prayer. What can she mean? “He comes here to teach us.” “Who, who? It cannot be He, the Son. Does the spirit of an apostle transfigured appear in this city—this city of love? I am astounded.” “He says that in a century hence electricity will create a human being.” What can she mean? Is the camera-eye, telephone-ear to be supplemented by a dynamo head, put on locomotive lungs and stood on wheel feet? Truly here is sympathy in Arc for such invention. Twenty-four hours without sleep. I yawn so terribly. Robet anxiously straightens me out on a chair for repose. I dream in shadow of friends and home. Saucy’s mother hugs her close. Next my chair is moved easily along and I open my eyes in an ice grotto, where a large company is assembled, whom I imagine are the many relatives. As older people, like them in feature are occupying special chairs of state—the parents? The change to cool arbor from summer heat is so greatly refreshing I regain animation. At the parents’ request, we are placed on pedestals for exhibition. “Are all so small?” they inquire. “We are medium. There are midgets and giants,” we reply. “How greatly you have multiplied. How great the size of the earth in comparison with Arc. You do more wonderful acts in proportion as you have more land to work upon.” They place their hands upon our heads in token of membership in their family. [Illustration: Decoration] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ “There is magic in the air.”