"What's the purpose of that?" I inquired; but the Professor merely shook his head and did not deign to answer. However, I saw how the first in line, having finished his business, passed out a gleaming bit of silver, which was promptly rung up on a cash register by a little chalk-face seated at a table; and later I observed how each successive person, before leaving the room, similarly disposed of a bit of silver, which likewise was rung up on the cash register.
For over an hour we remained standing in line; and, to amuse himself during the interval, Tan Trum read out to me in loud tones the various signs and placards that hung about the room—signs and placards which I was not yet able to decipher unaided.
"Lower class citizens should be seen and not heard!" read the Professor, sonorously. "And the less seen the better!" Then, turning to me, he commented, "That is a good old maxim dating back thousands of years to Tit Wit, our greatest lawgiver.
"A little thought is a dangerous thing," continued Tan Trum, turning back to the signs, "and much thought is impossible. Therefore the ideal citizen will live in a state of sublime thoughtlessness.
"That is a rule we always do our best to follow," he remarked, turning to me with a boastful smile. "It is the first of the Silver Rules of Conduct—silver being our most valued metal, you know.
"But I suppose it's useless to try to drill such high principles into the barbarian mind," he meditated. "However, here's the second Silver Rule.
"Thoughtlessness is the best policy," he read. "It ensures one the respect of one's superiors, the confidence of one's equals, and a successful career in business or politics."
Seeing that I had no comment to make, my guide proceeded to the third Silver Rule.
"Thoughtlessness is next to godliness. A thoughtless mind and soul are the purest creation of the divine. He who thinks not will be content. He who thinks not will not spend time on vain revolts. He who thinks not will never suffer from headaches."
There were eleven other Silver Rules, all of which the Professor read with gusto; but my attention had wandered and I scarcely heard what he said. My mind was far away; I was thinking of Clay and asking myself where he was, if indeed he were alive at all; I was picturing my friends in the Overworld, and wishing I might see them once more, and wondering, as I had wondered so often, whether there were not some way to climb back through the maze of caverns toward the sunlight and blue skies....