This beautiful creature afforded us the most exquisite amusement. The mimicry of its movements upon our white-painted canvas was as faithful and luminous as that of animals within a few yards of a camera obscura when seen pictured upon its tympan. Frequently, when attempting to put our fingers upon its beard, it would suddenly bound away into oblivion, as if conscious of our earthly impertinence; but then others would appear, whom we could not prevent nibbling the herbage, say or do what we would to them. So, at last, the people of earth knew something concrete about the live things of the moon. Goats with beards were there, and every New Yorker knew goats, for they fed upon the rocky hills of Harlem. And the moon had birds, too: On examining the center of this delightful valley we found a large, branching river, abounding with lovely islands and water-birds of numerous kinds. A species of gray pelican was the most numerous, but black and white cranes, with unreasonably long legs and bill, were also quite common. We watched their piscivorous experiments a long time in hopes of catching sight of a lunar fish; but, although we were not gratified in this respect, we could easily guess the purpose with which they plunged their long necks so deeply beneath the water. Near the upper extremity of one of these islands we obtained a glimpse of a strange amphibious creature of a spherical form, which rolled with great velocity across the pebbly beach, and was lost sight of in the strong current which set off from this angle of the island. At this point clouds intervened, and the Herschel party had to call it a day. But it had been a big day, and nobody who read the _Sun_ wondered that the astronomers tossed off “congratulatory bumpers of the best ‘East India particular,’ and named this place of wonders the Valley of the Unicorn.” So ended the _Sun_ story of August 26, but an editorial paragraph assured the patrons of the paper that on the morrow there would be a treat even richer. What did the other papers say? In the language of a later and less elegant period, most of them ate it up--some eagerly, some grudgingly, some a bit dubiously, but they ate it, either in crumbs or in hunks. The _Daily Advertiser_ declared: No article has appeared for years that will command so general a perusal and publication. Sir John has added a stock of knowledge to the present age that will immortalize his name and place it high on the page of science. The _Mercantile Advertiser_, knowing that its lofty readers were unlikely to see the moon revelations in the lowly _Sun_, hastened to begin reprinting the articles in full, with the remark that the document appeared to have intrinsic evidence of authenticity.