The meteors belonging to the Perseid family are yellow in color, moving at the rate of thirty-eight miles a second, as compared with the swift onrush of the November meteors at forty-four miles a second, the latter flashing into view with the rapidity of a skyrocket, and as swiftly disappearing. The Bielids, on the contrary, travel with medium velocity, their stately glide at ten miles per second, being in marked contrast to the speed of the Perseids or Leonids. The Bielids, also called the Andromedids, are due November 23–27, and, as already noted, may be seen to radiate from a point near Gamma in the constellation Andromeda. In the case of the Perseids, a few brilliant streaks often herald their approach, usually giving promise of an especially fine display. The August meteor showers yield the smallest shooting stars and the largest type of fireballs. Observers startled by the sudden appearance of the latter are rather apt to give exaggerated accounts of their appearance, neglecting to note the direction whence they came, the time or duration of their flight, and other necessary data, rendering the observations, in consequence, practically useless. We now come to shooting stars, the kindergarten—as it were—of the meteoric system. Weighing practically but a few ounces at the most, they can be easily handled or put into one’s pocket without discomfort. Analysis of those which have sunk to rest on our planet, as a result of successfully penetrating right through the atmospheric net surrounding our domain, has shown that they are composed of iron and many of the chemical elements, such as sodium and carbon, which are to be found on the earth. For vast periods of time they may have been pursuing a seemingly endless voyage along the highways and byways of the solar system, wending their way in safety amid the intricate paths traversed by the planets. They have been traveling at a speed far exceeding that of the swiftest cannon ball, and doubtless with an average velocity of about twenty-five miles a second. A shooting star moving at such a rate would pass from the earth to the moon in a couple of hours, or from London to Edinburgh in about ten seconds. All goes well with the little traveler as long as it keeps at a discreet distance from the aërial torpedo net surrounding our planet, seemingly set for the purpose of entrapping such intruders. However, should the shooting star venture too near, plunging through the atmosphere at the pace which kills, it is bound to come to grief. Rubbing against every particle it meets on the way, friction is caused, resulting in the blaze of glory which makes its presence known to us, swiftly followed by its exit when it is reduced to ashes.