My transmigration was disappointing as an experience. It was nothing more than going to sleep and dreaming about circles--orange circles, yellow circles, with a thousand others of graduated shades between, and so on through the spectrum till you pass absolute green and get a tone or two toward blue and strike the Earth color-note. Then with me everything got jumbled together and seemed about to take new shapes, and I woke up in the most commonplace manner and opened my eyes to find myself externalized in our Earth Settlement House with Ooma laughing at me. "Don't stir!" she cried. "Don't lift a finger till we are sure your specific gravity is all right." And then she pinched me to see if I was dense enough, because the atmosphere is heavier or lighter or something here than with us. I reminded her that matter everywhere must maintain an absolute equilibrium with its environment, but she protested. "That's well enough in theory; you must understand that the Earth is awfully out of tune at present, and sometimes it requires time to readjust ourselves to its conditions." --I did not say so, but I fancy Ooma may have been undergoing readjustment.--My dear, she has grown as pudgy as a Jupitan, and her clothes--but then she always did look more like a spiral nebula than anything else. (_The record here becomes unintelligible by reason of the passage of a thunderstorm above the summit of Long's Peak._) --There must be star-dust in the ether.--I never had to concentrate so hard before.--That's all about the Settlement House, and don't accuse me again of slighting details. I'm sure you know the place now as well as Ooma herself, so I can go on to tell what little I have learned about human beings.