We left our car and found another just ready to start for the distant city in which our observatory was situated. It was a small car comparatively, and we had it all to ourselves. There were all sorts of conveniences in it, and we composed ourselves for a good rest. After a ride of several hours we reached our destination. It was now about noon, so that we had actually made nearly half a day, besides the time spent in sleep while riding. I know some of my friends on the earth, who say the day is too short for them, would appreciate such an improvement as that if they could have it. We passed part of the afternoon in riding about the city. The same language was spoken here as was used on Thorwald’s side of the globe; but, although communication was so easy, we found enough difference in the architecture and in the general appearance of the people to make travel interesting. Toward night we all alighted at the door of the observatory, and the doctor and I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of a man of Mars who had spent many years in studying the surface of the earth. It may be imagined that he was glad to meet us and to get our answers to many questions which had long perplexed him, some of which he had never hoped to have solved. Proctor, for this was the name by which he was introduced, was one of the oldest men we had seen, and impressed us as one possessed of great wisdom. His manner was so dignified, also, that it seemed quite as inappropriate to address him without a title as it was to call our hostess plain Zenith. But when I asked Thorwald aside what I should call him, he said: “Call him by his name, just as you do the rest of us. We have but one name each.” “I should think that would be confusing,” said I. “For example, how are you to be distinguished from any other Thorwald?” “There is no other that I ever heard of. There are names enough to go all around.” As night came on we were brought face to face with the great instrument whose work of observing the earth was known far and wide. Proctor was occupied a short time in adjusting it, and then asked us if we could recognize what was in the field. I motioned to the doctor, but as he insisted that I should take the first view I put my eye to the glass with much trepidation. Instead of the magnified disk of the earth, which I expected to behold, I saw but a small portion of the surface, and that a familiar stretch of coast line. I never knew whether Proctor thought by our accent or by the cut of our clothes that we were New Englanders, but he had so pointed the telescope that our first sight of the earth showed us dear old Massachusetts Bay, with its islands and boundaries. I did not speak till the doctor had looked, and then we told the others of our pleasant surprise.