Here the Martian philosopher seemed to have been interrupted. A few minutes elapsed before the Zee-rays continued to do their interesting work. My assistant remarks, he subsequently said, that Am-Eureka itself but recently might have gone to war with a neighboring country called MAKE-SICK-O, and that the Am-Eurekans actually sent a fleet to WE’RE-ON-A-CRUISE. And indeed, such things may sometimes be necessary. But our behavior in We’re-on-a-Cruise is typical of the difference between Am-Eurekan and Your-Ropean warfare. When we Am-Eurekans entered We’re-on-a-Cruise, there were snipers there who shot at us from windows and housetops. One must expect these things on a campaign of invasion. The private citizens naturally are your enemies as much as are the uniformed soldiers. So, what did we do? We shot back at them whenever it was unavoidable. Whenever possible, we arrested them. We further saw to it that all citizens surrendered all weapons in their possession. This work done, we started to improve the sanitary conditions of the town. We made the town more comfortable to live in than it had ever been under Make-sickan rule. On the other hand, it is said of the Two-Tons that they conquered among others a town called Low-Vein situated in the territory of the Bell-Giants. Quite naturally they found snipers there. Did they meet the situation as humanely as we had done? No, they Did-not. So passionately enraged were they, on the contrary, at this inevitable discovery, that they burned, shelled, and destroyed the larger part of the town and its inhabitants; and a town this in which the very buildings were treasures of mediaeval art. After this, further sanitary improvements were almost wholly superfluous. No, even though circumstances may have compelled us to send that fleet, even though similar circumstances may again compel us to similar acts, and even though we may thus find ourselves some day engaged in bloody war with some other nation, in our minds and in our breasts we bear no malice toward either the Make-sickans or any other nation on all our vast planet. We might fight, but the fight having been fought, we would gladly shake hands, and feel sincerely sorry that we had been drawn into a nasty quarrel. And this, without dip-low-macy, without manipulation of the facial muscles, wholeheartedly, as befits a good sport. Separated as we are, by an expansive ocean, from the main seat of nationality-mania, we look on unprejudiced, pitying deeply the Martians who are forced to suffer by its fearful consequences, and doing what we can to stay at least the starvation that might follow in the struggle’s dreadful wake.