_Guest._ Has it ever happened that any of your fancies turned out to be actual fact? Truth is said to be stranger than fiction. _Host._ In some instances just that thing has happened. In one story I had a character whose occupation was that of an analyzer of lava, specimens being sent to him from all parts of the world. In this connection a foreigner inquired of him if there were any volcanoes near Boston, to which city he was on his way. This preposterous idea was, of course, quickly dismissed in the story. But I received a letter from a scientific man in New England who thought I would like to know that, not far from Boston, but in a spot now covered by the ocean, there existed in prehistoric times an active volcano. As to the practical application of some of my fanciful inventions, I may say that two young ladies on Cape Cod imitated the example of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine, and having put on life preservers, and each taking an oar, found no difficulty in sweeping themselves through the water, after the fashion of the two good women in the story. I will also say that the Negative Gravity machine is nothing but a condensed balloon. As soon as a man can make a balloon which can bear his weight and can also be put in a money belt, he can do all the things that the man in the story did. I may also say that naval men have written to me stating that it is not impossible that some of the contrivances mentioned in “The Great War Syndicate” may some day be used in marine warfare. I myself have no doubt of this, for there is no reason why a turtle-backed little ironclad, almost submerged, should not steam under the stern of a great man-of-war like the “Camperdown,” and having disabled her propeller blades, tow her _nolens volens_ into an American port, where she could be detained until peace should be declared. _Guest._ I would not like to live in the port in whose harbor the captive vessel was detained. _Host._ It might be disagreeable; perhaps it would be better to keep the captured vessel continually on the tow-path through unfrequented waters. [Illustration] _Guest._ But we were speaking of the necessity of having a definite purpose at the outset of a piece of work. _Host._ It amounts to a necessity, almost. For instance, if I am about to write a fairy tale, I must get my mind in an entirely different condition from what it would be were I planning a story of country life of the present day. With me the proper condition often requires hard work. The fairy tale will come when the other kind is wanted. But the ideas of one class must be kept back and those of the other encouraged until at last the proper condition exists and the story begins. But I suppose you poets do not set out in this way.