The reception of the party by the City Council and a joint committee from the great college, of which Leo learned that Amoora Oseba was the head, was most impressive, and when the master of ceremonies waved his hand as a signal, there was an unanimous shout of “Welcome home, Oseba! Welcome back to Eurania!”
This was the only noisy demonstration. “Every face,” says the chronicler, “looked respectful, grateful, gratified, and happy, but there were no fire-crackers or bad breath.”
Is not that marvellous? Think of such a people! Think of an occasion of like character in London, New York—ah, ye gods!—in Paris or Berlin! I wonder if this fellow was not spreading it on rather thick?
But, listen:—
“We were escorted to our carriages, one hundred gorgeous electro-motors, literally made of gold and ivory, and adorned with what appeared to be precious stones, but what proved to be common, indeed. We were driven to the temple—and such a temple! The Palace of Westminster, the Vatican, or the Washington Capitol would be ‘nowhere.’”
But I must “boil it down.” He tells us that the ceremony at the temple was “splendid, but brief”; that the reception of Amoora Oseba was sincere, and that the proceedings of the meeting of over five years previous, commissioning him for the perilous journey, were read.
“Resolutions of regret” for the loss of members of the party were passed, and a meeting was appointed at which Amoora Oseba should make his report to a select committee, and through such committee to the people of Eurania and Cavitorus.
Speaking in much praise of the almost depressing dignity of the ceremony, the notes record that at the close of the announcement, the chairman read the commission under which Oseba had acted, and on the performance of which authorised duty he was to report. It read as follows:—
“City of Eurania, Cavitorus,
“Year 20993, P.C.