Listening with wildly beating heart in intense suspense, I become unconscious as fiery serpents twine beneath me. At last recovered I look again; but no longer there. Ah, above? Have we passed it? Below it and still descending. I lean heavily and wholly on my statue. The days make no impress on me. Not even when I see the sky out of southern zone. Coldly viewing the Southern Cross Constellation of sun stars, the planet Mercury comes between, taking on a peculiar distinct phase. I sluggishly remember that in a mine the planets are seen thus at noon-day. Ah! is the earth’s center to be a mine to me? My eyes become exhilarant as I quickly investigate. I can see its (Mercury’s) rivers, mountains plainly. I can see into it. As I get excited, I see an inside flaming fire, as earth’s. Then it is—yes, a lamp, also. The planets lamps? Where are their chimneys? I inspect again. There certainly is no chimney to guard the draught. I will study. Oh, why did I not notice before, it is more like a Chinese lantern—candle inside, colored shade outside. I look in ecstasy for days. It is, as is our dear mother earth, a beautiful Japanese lantern; made by Deity’s hand to revolve around the glowing sun. A sun ray spectrums the interior of earth. O, beam alive with electric, spirit intelligence, give me a sign. The sun itself comes. My eye, on fire, looks into its soul. O, sun, what art thou? Worshiped by some as God, by all as a great life giver. Ages past and future will you roll, unguided by man. I am now so hot I wonder if I have partly warmed the inside of my statue being, (so wholly benumbed I became at the knowledge of passing below the earth’s center, inside light—losing all shadow of hope of seeing Arc again—that my marble state was more than ever marbleized). Now that I am treated, in lieu of home, to new explanations of past astronomical phenomena, is some recompense to my constitutionally enthusiastic mind. Holding down an equally strong impulse to desire to tell this new acquisition, I let it unfold to myself to warm me under my marble shield. What follows fast? Vision upon vision is enlarging my interior sense of human life, until my outside is only cold. My whole inner is seething in ardor until my eyes break through the statue thrall. Too hasty—the light blinds me. I close them impatiently; open slowly. Is the sun a China lamp? O, no, no; but an American electric arc light. I hurrah unrestrainedly!