Very tactfully Captain Gavison reminded Stranahan that the question to be decided did not concern the Sunday regulations of the Atlanteans. And without further dalliance he raised his voice and inquired how many were in favor of a social club. The proposal having been accepted by unanimous acclaim, the next question was one of nomenclature. Various names were suggested: “The Woodrow Wilson Club,” “The Theodore Roosevelt Club,” “The U. S. A. Club,” “The X-111 Club,” “The Underseas Association”--but finally, after much pointless debating, we decided that, since we were the sole representatives of the upper world in Atlantis, the most appropriate title would be “The Upper World Club.” Having threshed out this important matter, we now felt it necessary to elect the officers of “The Upper World Club.” Obviously, there was only one possible nominee for President. It seemed almost a matter of form to propose the name of Gavison; and once this name had been mentioned, the election was settled, for there was no one daring enough to run in opposition or even to think of suggesting another candidate. After being duly installed in office, the Captain made his inaugural address. It was brief and to the point. He began by thanking us in conventional terms for the honor and by assuring us that he would try to run the club as well as if it were a ship under his command. And he concluded with a declaration of policy: “We’re all of us caught like rats in a trap, you know, so while we’re here there’s nothing to do but to try to make the best of our prison. And I think the Upper World Club should be the means. It should have, I believe, the following objects: first, to bring us together for social purposes. Secondly, it should give us the chance to discuss our problems in this strange world, and should be the means of expressing our combined views to the Atlanteans. Lastly, it should keep us all together, so that we can act in unison if the time ever comes to make a dash for liberty.” “That time will never come!” I surprised myself by exclaiming, after Gavison had lapsed into silence. And, finding all eyes bent upon me inquiringly, I felt bound to continue. “Let us not deceive ourselves by the thought of escape,” I proceeded, stepping toward the center of the assemblage. “We are buried beneath thousands of feet of water, and for all practical purposes America is as far from us as the moon. Even if there were a way back, what good would that do us when we cannot even leave this city against the will of the Atlanteans? No, my friends, let us look facts in the face. We shall remain here till we are gray and toothless, and shall never see the United States again. And let us try to reconcile ourselves to that certainty. Let us try to become citizens of Atlantis, and share in the life about us ...” And in this vein I continued for some minutes, while my hearers followed me with transparent interest, and reluctantly nodded agreement.