_August_ 10, 1913.--Again ready. Better telescope than one in use seven years ago. Find we can now read the Marsian newspapers. They are written in same language as our own. Nothing in them worth quoting. Evidently "silly season" over there as well as here. Account of the Sea Serpent. Let off patent sky-shattering rockets, but the inhabitants of the adjacent planet failed to observe them. They have arranged bonfires in geometrical order, so far as we can understand it, as a signal (if it is one); they seem to wish to observe something like "_Ta-ra-ra-boom-de-ay_." Interesting. Popular song of fourteen years ago just reached our nearest neighbour in the Solar System. Cannot observe more, as the planet is off for another seven years. _August_ 10, 1920.--We ought to do something this time. Improved telescope; can see everything. So excellent that we can almost hear the Marsians talking, Great advance, too, in through-space-hurling machinery. We applied this new power to a pea-shooter, and, at the first shot, was sufficiently fortunate to hit a Marsian policeman on the nose. He first arrested an innocent person for the assault, but, on our repeating the signal, he looked up, and shook his fist at the Earth. Eventually he traced the source of the pea-shooting. They then began to watch our signals. They were just about to reply when we started off for another seven years. _August_ 10, 1927.--I take up my predecessor's book to continue these observations. Deeply interested to see if the inhabitants of the neighbouring planet would remember the date, and be on the look out for us. Yes, there they were. We have just signalled "How are you?" But it has received, as yet, no reply. The Marsians seem to be signalling, but not in our direction. We have just tried another message, "Good morning; do you use soap?" Ah, this has woke them up! They _do_ understand us. They have replied, "Don't be rude." We are greatly encouraged by this, and have signalled "The planet Mars, we believe?" This has elicited no response. Strange! We have begged for a reply, and it has just come. Here it is:--"Don't bother; can't attend to you just now. We are talking with the planet Jupiter." Time up! Off for another seven years! _August_ 10, 1934.--Just one line to add to the other communications of my predecessors. The Earth and Mars Intercommunication Company, Limited, has been merged into the London, Jupiter, Venus, Mars, and North Saturn Aerial Railway Company. During the present near approach of Mars to the Earth, an excursion electric air-torpedo train will leave the Victoria Station for Pars the Capital of Mars. The excursion will be personally conducted by Baron COOK of Ludgate Circus. Return tickets, Second Class, L1,000; First Class (with hotel coupons), Half an ounce of coal. * * * * * [Illustration: "WILL THEY WORK?" LORD ROSEBERY (_aside to McHARCOURT, the Gillie_). "WONDER WHAT SORT OF A BAG HE'LL MAKE--_OVER THOSE DOGS!!_"]