The Governor’s palace, situated in the heart of the city, was a great, clumsy, stone structure, of many gables and towers, surrounded by a park of stately oaks. The tolling of countless bells signaled our arrival, the tall gates flew wide, and the horses dashed up a broad, graveled road. People hurried from all parts of the park to see us as the Governor escorted us to the great domed hall, where he bestowed upon us the embrace of welcome, then personally conducted us to our apartments. He placed his palace at our disposal, and gave strict orders concerning our comfort (the moon was ours for the asking), then turned us over to an army of attendants. These people seemed rather timid of us at first and deferentially sounded our inclinations regarding the bath. As we exhibited a lively interest in the subject they lost no further time about the matter, but hurried us down vast columned halls and corridors, and finally ushered us to a pavilion gardened with countless strange, tropical plants. A deep rippling brook gently caressed the soggy edge of a steep mossy bank, and down this soft incline we recklessly tumbled and rolled, hauling and mauling each other, and simultaneously plunged into the water with a tremendous splash—the water was tepid and stinging. Saxe. suggested it was the salt, but Saunders was positive we bathed in fresh water, while Sheldon declared it was lime, and these advanced people wished to do away with us to get possession of the car. It was certainly a villainous plot. But we emerged from the plunge with tingling, glistening skins, and meekly submitted to the severe rubbing down that even a pugilist would balk against. Swathed in fleecy wool, we were hustled through a panel door, down a winding, oven-heated alley, which led, in some mysterious way, direct to our apartments. They handled us like toys, these cast-iron people, and quickly assisted us into fresh clothing—the costume of Centauri, which suited us well, though Sheldon whined that he felt naked. Saxe. and Saunders bothered continually about the chemicals contained in the bath, and quizzed the attendants, who pretended not to understand; both however declared they felt as fresh as daisies and good for all night. “No doubt,” said Sheldon, “freshness is proverbial with daisies, though I’ve seen many that reeked the other way; but recollect everything on this side is six centuries ahead, even to the water, and the Centaurians seem pretty rapid. That stiff, old chap, the Governor, is going to let us in for some tall doings.” Saxe. flushed angrily as I snickered approval of Sheldon’s flippancy, but was forced to postpone his bristling rebuke as a sedate, but very nervous individual, entered, bowing profoundly and announced in scarcely audible tones something about “Governor,” and “waiting.” We followed the gentleman of nerves, who seemed greatly distressed because we looked at him. He ushered us to the great dining hall, then escaped with remarkable agility.