Gentola--Very, and as pretty as it is peculiar. Instead of the usual human, animal or fanciful composition, is this great metallic palmlike tree. Bernard, see how from that central cluster of upright leaves the water is thrown into the air from whence in silvery spray it falls upon the luxuriant foliage, from which, in a copious shower, it rains into the basin. Really, I think it almost the prettiest of the many fountains I have seen on Ento. In form and coloring both tree and foliage are true to nature. I wonder how the color effects are produced? De L'Ester--Genessano says that the coloring is effected through a process of enamelling which resists corrosion. He also says----Ah, Sylvian approaches. Sylvian--Efon fiestēmos, ēmanos. (I greet you kindly, friends.) Genessano--Onos t[a:] fiestēmos[a:][a:], Sylvian. (We as kindly greet you, Sylvian.) De L'Ester--Gentol[a:], I shall serve as interpreter between Sylvian, yourself and Bernard, who yet but slightly understands the Ento language. Eman[a:] Sylvian, this is Gentol[a:], of whom you have heard, and this is her son, Bernard, who recently passed from the mortal to our side of life. Sylvian--Only as a matter of courtesy need I be presented to one whose name to me is as a household word. Gentol[a:], as I look into your eyes my heart goes out to you in fonder greeting than my lips can utter, for I recall cherished memories of long ago, memories which happily you cannot now recall, but which, at times, like evanescent mist wreaths drift athwart your mental vision. De L'Ester's warning glance deters me else I might grow too reminiscent, which, at this time, would be unwise. Gentol[a:], I cannot express my joy, my gratitude, that across the vast space between Earth and Ento an incarnated spirit has been brought to deliver to Ento's sorrowful children a Message of hope; a Message which shall lift out of an abyss of darkness into effulgent light a people who now with heavy hearts and downcast thoughts ever walk in the shadow of a great fear; for ever, as they courageously smile and strive to forget, they are conscious of the approach of the dread horror death. Gentol[a:], see you not how my people in whom the love element is so evolved as to dominate all other emotions, count all things valueless when compared with the intense affection they bear for their nearest and dearest ones? To them death is the synonym of despair, for when their dear ones pass into the Silence only despair and darkness of mind remain. But our hopes are high for the success of the Mission; for at last through the ceaseless efforts of Spirits of many Spirit Worlds the inner consciousness of the Entoans is being so aroused that in their despair, blindly they are reaching out for relief. More wonderful still, my kinsman, Omanos Fûnh[a:], Osy Hûn, listens with rapt attention as his child Vallo[a:] relates her wondrous experiences, which he no longer regards as the vagaries of a diseased