"All right, Professor. I'll do the best I can, but I really do not enjoy so much of it. Suppose we give the people a reception at the Opera House." "O good!" cried Mattie. "And let's give them a concert. We can render them an hour of music that I am sure will please them very much." "Good girl!" shouted Fred, who was always in for anything in the line of music and innocent pleasure. All instantly agreed, and the town and neighboring places were informed of the fact of the intended reception that night. All necessary preparations were made, and it is needless to say that the building was packed to its utmost limits long before the appointed hour. At eight o'clock the curtain raised, and our friends marched upon the stage and sang in their best form an anthem of praise and thanksgiving to God. All were in the pink of health, free from all carking cares and vanities of life, and they sang as if inspired. Such singing had never been heard by the audience; and this fact, added to the romance connected with the occasion, carried the thousands of listeners completely off their feet. The encore that went up at the conclusion of the piece was tremendous beyond description. Nor would the excited audience cease an instant until our friends had rendered another song. Then Dr. Jones stepped forward, and raising his hand to invoke silence, said: "Your mayor will now address a few words to you." The mayor, a typical aldermanic looking person, advanced to the front of the stage and began a set speech after the stereotyped fashion. He was thoroughly imbued with the idea that the navigators of the great aluminum ship had premeditatedly visited their important city before going on to Washington, and it was no matter of surprise to him that they had done so. He thanked them, however, etc. He was discussing the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers and was evidently wound up for an hour, and the audience was beginning to move restlessly. A low murmur of disapprobation ran through the house as the untimely, uninteresting speech dragged its weary length, when a gallery god cried out: "Did you bring that thing from the North Pole, Dr. Jones? Trot it off and give us some more music." The audience received this shot with shouts of laughter and approval, and they did not stop until the crestfallen mayor backed off the stage. An hour was then spent in solos, duets, quartettes, choruses, etc. Then Dr. Jones made a speech of a few moments' length, in which he gave an account of the leading incidents of their wonderful trip. He especially dwelt upon the planting of the aluminum flagstaff at the North Pole, and when he assured them that the flag of our Union, as they sat in that comfortable opera-house, was flying at the peak of that superlatively splendid shaft at the very apex of the earth, the emotions of the assemblage could not be restrained, and they broke forth in thunders of applause.