Accosting the first pedestrian I inquired the way to Professor Saxlehner. Following directions, I soon reached Saxe.’s dwelling, which was brilliantly lit from top to bottom. The house seemed all frontage, wide, flat, and very shallow. I touched a conspicuous knob, the door startled me, as, clanging violently, it slid up. There stood Saxe. at the far end of the hall waiting for the intruder, but seeing me he shouted welcome. “Thought you intended to stay for good with Saunders,” he told me after the greeting. “What consumed the time? Surely not Saunders! Never mind, tell it to me later. The Centaurians do things in style; my workshop is a great improvement upon the old one, but, confidentially, Virgillius, give me the attic every time; there the ideas came without wasting hours thinking them up. This luxury inspires yawns. I don’t see how these people ever made such rapid headway.” And Saxe. was right, the place resembled a lady’s boudoir, all silken cushions, soft carpets and rainbow tints. “But it’s pleasant to rest here when I’m tired,” he continued. “I don’t object to the frippery, it’s all in a lifetime. The rear is serious enough.” “And breeches more comfortable, eh, Saxe.?” I nudged him. “No comparison, my boy!” he replied. “I’m done with petticoats, a man can’t do anything in them but try to look pretty. No wonder women spend most of their lives primping, it’s the petticoats. I’ve found a tailor who knows his business. Imagine us returning to our own land rigged up in the sort of thing you’ve got on! Yes, sir! I feel like Saxlehner now. Sheldon’s done the same thing; says the climate of the Ocstas is too arctic for tights.” I decided to don trousers again. “Yes,” Saxe. advised, “bundle the drapery out; it makes you look like the bearded lady. Now for the _Propellier_. The new machine is a great improvement upon the old one; the defects of the first are remedied in the second—don’t advertise it.” He showed me two or three tiny wheels, several great long screws and rivets, and two gigantic pieces of filigree work cast in glittering metal. “Pure gold,” he informed me, “cast in crystal molds over a furnace of electricity. It took me several days planning and figuring for the molds, yet, by George! the factory delivered them in a few hours. That’s rapid work for you! Molds should always be of crystal.” “But the gold!” I interrupted; “is the whole machine to be cast in gold?” “Of course! What of it?” he cried. “It’s manufactured by wholesale and on the market like lumber. Look here.” He opened the adjoining room and showed me the gold stacked up in blocks ready for use. “Is it absolutely pure?” I asked.