Gentola—We are in a very spacious room, through whose large alcoved windows one obtains a fine view of the lawn with its great beds of blooming plants and a lovely fountain throwing jets of sparkling water high into the air. The room is panelled in rose colored woods which rise to the ceiling and curve to its centre, meeting under a great cluster of carved foliage and rodel blooms. In the hearts of the rodels, which are of exaggerated size, are crystal bulbs, and I wish I might understand Ento's system of electric lighting, which is so unlike that of Earth. The floor is a mosaic of a very delicate rose tinted field, with shaded sprays of rose colored flowers scattered over it, and the wide border is of shades of rose colored foliage, grasses and flowers. The effect is delicate, very unique, and I think extremely pretty. In the centre of the apartment is a fountain, whose large basin is of white marble, veined with palest rose. It is in the form of a full blown rodel, and from its heart, tiny jets of water are thrown upward, striking a peculiar arrangement of crystal cups, producing soft musical sounds similar to the notes of a music box. All about the apartment are handsome divans, chairs and tables, on the latter are books, papers and other reading matter. There are swings and hammocks, and in the further one reclines a young girl with flowing dusky hair, olive-hued skin, lovely features, dark large, luminous eyes, full scarlet lips, through which her teeth gleam like pearls, and a form of perfect proportions. To me the eyes of the Entoans are their most noticeable feature. They are so large, so luminous, but always I see in them a sort of brooding expression as though in their depths lies some sorrowful memory.
Surely, yonder youthful looking woman near the window is not the mother of all those children, four of whom are swimming or playing in the basin of the fountain; three are swinging, and the two smaller ones are playing at her feet. Near her, reclining on a pretty wicker lounge, a fine looking man of apparently middle age reads aloud from a book which seems to greatly interest them, and now an aged man and woman, whom the children hail with delight, are entering the room, and the man and woman hasten forward, and as they lead them to seats, they affectionately welcome them and speak to them in gentle, solicitous tones. Now quite a youthful man and woman approach, and the two younger children scramble to their feet, and hasten to the arms outstretched to receive them. The man swings the older child to his shoulder, and the woman takes up the younger one who is little more than a baby, and turns to salute a beautiful, but sad faced young woman, who quietly and alone enters the room where all with much tenderness of manner greet her, and an attendant quickly robes the children playing in the basin of the fountain, who hasten to her and fondly cluster about her. Allow me to be silent, while Genessano shall explain the relationship of these persons.
Genessano—From their conversation I learn that the woman who entered alone recently has been widowed, and that she is the mother of the four children grouped about her. Her robe is not so much a badge of mourning as it is an indication of her widowhood. Only widows wear this peculiar shade of hinifro (yellow). The young girl in the hammock, the widow and the father of the other five children are the son and daughters of the middle aged couple, and the aged pair are the father and mother of the middle aged man, and all reside in this spacious home, of which this living room is a feature common to Ento.
De L'Ester—Another feature is about to be added to the already attractive scene, for here are a number of attendants bearing trays laden with delicacies and fruits, to be served for the family luncheon. The hour has expired, and after a hasty survey of other apartments of the residence, we must bid adieu to it and to Endoinas. At a low altitude we still will follow the course of the river, which from this point flows in a southwestward direction, and soon we will arrive at Hom-arû, (City of Palms), a city situated very near the line of the equator. It is on the west bank of the river which forms a boundary between the provinces of Vohûaka̤ and Ha̤mûyen, where we will meet a Messenger from Da̤o, who will inform us of the precise condition of Valloa̤. The purport of the message will determine our movements of the near future. George, pause for a moment that Gentola̤ and Bernard may again view this city of bridges. Is not it quite attractive?
Gentola—It is more than attractive, it is a view so impressively beautiful that one is not likely to forget it. You, who have seen the great cities of Earth, those aggregations of magnificence and squalor, will understand how my son and I are impressed and surprised by the beauty, thrift and cleanliness of the cities and towns of Ento. As I gaze in all directions the scene impresses me with a sense of unreality, much as though I were beholding the creation of a mirage. The humid, hazy atmosphere lends a sort of indistinctness to the far reaches of the country, where various kinds of water-craft are passing along canals and the larger Waterways; while below us the streets and bridges are alive with the movement of people and vehicles, and, De L'Ester, I observe several animals running about the streets or lying on porches; what are they?
De L'Ester—Do not you remember Fenēto, in Giant's dwelling? Well, those animals are Fenēto's kindred, and a naturalist would inform us that they belong to the feline family, which they do. No, on Ento there are no animals even similar to our wolf or its kindred. Indeed, on Ento, nearly all savage life forms have disappeared, and, in time, such forms will disappear from our planet. It is a fact that on all planets evolved to the Spiritualized man period, in proportion as humanity advances, the coarser life forms recede; for it is a law of nature that, as the Spiritual atmosphere of Planets increases in quality and quantity, through lack of proper vital sustenance, coarser life forms perish. Were the lion, tiger, bear and other savage animals of our Planet left unmolested, of necessity, in time, they would cease to exist. The activities of generation demand specific conditions, and Ento no longer offers conditions favorable to the generation of savage life forms. Yes, domesticity of certain animals enables them to for a time ward off the day of their doom, but it is only delayed. Have you observed those lofty Light Towers?
Gentola—Yes, and when at night they are ablaze, the scene must be beautiful. Some time, like you, I may be free to go where I will. Then I may come to Ento to view all the wonders we now have not time to even glance at. You all are most patient with my dear son and me, and I think that you know that we appreciate all your goodness to us.
De L'Ester—Progress, spiritually, comes only to those who stand and serve. You partly comprehend our present service of love, but you do not at all comprehend your service of a coming time, which to a greater degree will make us your debtors, even as we now are. Now we will continue our journey.
Bernard—Mother, dear, rest your hand on my shoulder. No, it does not hinder me, and it is so pleasant to feel your touch.
Gentola—You dear boy, I shall be glad to do so.