Finally things began to get larger and larger and larger on the earth, and he knew he was floating gently down, down, down. It was just like going down from the twenty-first story in a very slow, very comfortable elevator. Plump, and Billy was on the ground. Before him stood a city. This seemed strange, for he knew he hadn't seen it until his feet touched Mother Earth. "Excuse me, sir," said Billy, to a tall, thin, rusty coated man who was looking intently at the heavens through a long hollow tube open at both ends. "Oh! you're here, are you?" said the man, lowering the tube and looking at Billy. "I've been waiting for you to come down." "Yes, sir," said Billy; "excuse me, but what city is this?" "Shamville. So you are a meteor." "No, sir, I'm a messenger," said Billy. "Pardon me, but you _are_ a meteor, by right of discovery, and I ought to know, for I'm a near Astronomer." "A near what?" "Not a near what, but a near Astronomer; with my near telescope I have nearly discovered hundreds of nearly new stars," said the man, looking very, very wise. "Oh! I see," said Billy, smiling. "Well sir, you may be a near astronomer, but in this case you are not near right." "Well, you're a near meteor and that will do well enough in Shamville." By this time they had entered the city. "Who is that long haired, greasy gentleman writing on his cuff?" asked Billy. "You must meet him. He is our village near poet," answered the star-gazer, impressively. "Allow me, Mr. Never Print, to introduce my latest discovery, Billy Bounce, a near meteor." Mr. Never Print stopped writing, and after rolling his eyes and carefully disarranging his hair, said: "How beautiful a thing is a fried oyster! Have you read my latest near book?" "No, sir," said Billy. "Ah! such is near fame," said the poet, untying his cravat. "Art is long, but a toothless dog does not bite." "Sir," said Billy, "I didn't quite catch your meaning?" [Illustration: _The Near Poet._] "The near meaning, you mean; like all great near poets, my meaning is hidden. Perhaps you will understand this better: The little flower, like a beefsteak, reminds us that a gentle answer comes home to roost." Billy was so bewildered by this that he leaned against a wall, or rather, he leaned on what looked like a wall. As the near astronomer helped him to his feet he said: "Be careful of the near walls. They're just painted canvas, you know, and are not meant to lean against." "Thank you," said Billy; "is there anything here that is not an imitation?" "Oh, no!" answered the astronomer, "this is Shamville; but I assure you we're all just as good as the original." "Well, I must be off," said Billy, "I must deliver this note to Bogie Man." "To whom?" "To Bogie Man. Can you tell me how to get there?" "Oh, my goodness! Oh, my gracious! What have I done, what have I done?" cried the astronomer, beating himself over the head with his near telescope.