CHAPTER III.
Mrs. Jones Offers Some Objections.
But Dr. Jones met great opposition in a quarter that was not so easily disposed of. He had a wife. Mrs. Jones was a very intelligent and lovely woman, younger by some fifteen years than the Doctor. She must be consulted. He broached the subject very cautiously, now and then expatiating upon the extreme ease and comfort with which the trip to the North Pole might be made. He bought histories of the many Arctic explorations, and read them aloud to her. At first she listened indifferently, not dreaming for a moment that the Doctor was burning with a desire to become an Arctic explorer. Day after day he enlarged and dilated upon his plan. Denison often dropped in of an evening, and the conversation invariably drifted into the old topic, the aluminum globe and the trip to the North Pole.
One evening the architect, Mr. Marsh, with a large paper roll in his hand, came with Denison to the Doctor's residence. After the usual greetings the Doctor said, "Mrs. Jones, I think we will take possession of the dining-room, as we wish to use the table. Come in with us, for I am sure that you are greatly interested in the business we have on hand to-night."
Mrs. Jones good-naturedly complied, and sat engaged with some knitting, while the roll brought by the architect was spread upon the table, and weights laid upon its corners. The two schemers gave a cry of delight as a truly magnificent sketch of the globe unfolded before their eyes. Floating in the firmament, thousands of feet above the earth, with a panoramic view of forests, lakes, rivers, mountains and hill elevations, fruitful valleys thickly dotted with towns, villages, farms, little specks that represented houses, green fields, etc., fading away into indistinctness in the far distances of the horizon, all done with such patient and faithful regard for detail and artistic appreciation of color and perspective, that Mrs. Jones joined in the chorus of expressions of unqualified admiration. It was done in water colors, and the enraptured Doctor seized one end of it and cried: "Take hold of one end, Denison, and help me hold it up against the wall. There, Maggie! Denison! Did you ever see anything so absolutely beautiful?"
They declared that they never had. The artist, meantime, stood with flushed cheek, his arms folded across his breast, modest and quiet.
"Get tacks and a hammer, Maggie, and we'll fasten it to the wall; then we can all sit and enjoy this glorious panorama."
The painting was quickly tacked up in a position for inspection, and all sat admiringly before it.
"By the way, Mr. Marsh, you must have done something in the line of aeronautism, or you never could have made that painting," observed the Doctor.
"No, Doctor, I have never made any balloon ascensions, but I have climbed many mountains, both in Europe and America, and have made numerous sketches from vast elevations. I have simply drawn upon these for my material, and in this painting you have a blending of several of them. Of course, I have taxed my imagination to some extent. The central object, the globe, air-ship, or whatever you may be pleased to call it, is your own conception, or my conception of your idea."