I gave my directions to the astronomer, and beheld the cylinder, two-hundred feet in length and twenty feet in diameter, swing around until it pointed toward a little flickering light that shone like a distant star. I looked into the eye-piece, managed to get the tube pointed accurately, and then requested the astronomer to focus the lenses so as to bear upon the planetary light in range. He knew at once the planet I had singled out. He called it Zo-ide. After the focusing was completed, I looked and, behold, I could readily discern many of the physical features of my own world. "That is my homeland," I cried triumphantly. "I live on Zo-ide, or Earth, as we call it." Of course my listeners were incredulous, but I proceeded to explain to them as I looked through the telescope: "That dark ridge to the left is called 'the Rocky and Andes Mountain Systems'. The shining belt on the central portion is the 'Mississippi River'. The rough ridge to the right is 'the Allegheny System' of mountains." Then I indicated the location of our larger cities. As I pointed to New York, I saw a mere speck moving. I was convinced that it was one of our large steamships, and as I so explained the astronomer looked at me with absorbing interest. He informed me that he had often seen the moving of the spots, and thought they were some cloud formations peculiar to our world. But I insisted on the steamship explanation and proceeded to describe an ocean liner, for these Jupiterites are not familiar with oceans of cold water on which float numerous craft. I was then a royal guest, and passed a most felicitous night with these four celebrities. We talked of the more powerful telescope that the government of Jupiter was manufacturing, and of the still greater views it promised to reveal. Then I informed them of our system of science. They were astonished at the great civilization extant on Zo-ide, or our Earth. I told them that a subtile power lay dormant in the atoms and molecules of matter, which could be released and utilized, and that we in our world called it "electricity." During the night I learned that the convolutions on the chin and forehead of a Jupiterite served the purpose of a new sense. By the aid of these convolutions any person of Jupiter can tell in daylight or darkness the nature of any surrounding substance, whether it be hard or soft, combustible or non-combustible, good for food or not. I confess that I was unable to grasp the idea intelligently. So the people on the Moon had the same difficulty in understanding the use of my nose. Before morning dawned I informed my appreciative quartette that I would see them no more, that I had paused at Jupiter station long enough, and that I must be off on my vast excursion trip.