enth Century, worthy of the Great
Republic, and eminently worthy of the illustrious CYRUS W. himself!

As already mentioned, the _Susquehanna_ lay a few hundred miles south
of San Diego, or, to be more accurate, in 27 deg. 7' North Latitude and 118 deg.
37' West Longitude (Greenwich).

It was now a little past midnight. The Moon, in her last quarter, was
just beginning to peep over the eastern horizon. Lieutenant Brownson,
leaving the quarter deck, had gone to the forecastle, where he found a
crowd of officers talking together earnestly and directing their glasses
towards her disc. Even here, out on the ocean, the Queen of the night,
was as great an object of attraction as on the North American Continent
generally, where, that very night and that very hour, at least 40
million pairs of eyes were anxiously gazing at her. Apparently forgetful
that even the very best of their glasses could no more see the
Projectile than angulate Sirius, the officers held them fast to their
eyes for five minutes at a time, and then took them away only to talk
with remarkable fluency on what they had not discovered.

"Any sign of them yet, gentlemen?" asked Brownson gaily as he joined the
group. "It's now pretty near time for them to put in an appearance.
They're gone ten days I should think."

"They're there, Lieutenant! not a doubt of it!" cried a young midshipman,
fresh from Annapolis, and of course "throughly posted" in the latest
revelations of Astronomy. "I feel as certain of their being there as I
am of our being here on the forecastle of the _Susquehanna_!"

"I must agree with you of course, Mr. Midshipman," replied Brownson
with a slight smile; "I have no grounds whatever for contradicting you."

"Neither have I," observed another officer, the surgeon of the vessel.
"The Projectile was to have reached the Moon when at her full, which was
at midnight on the 5th. To-day was the 11th. This gives them six days of
clear light--time enough in all conscience not only to land safely but
to install themselves quite comfortably in their new home. In fact, I
see them there already--"

"In my mind's eye, Horatio!" laughed one of the group. "Though the Doc
wears glasses, he can see more than any ten men on board."

--"Already"--pursued the Doctor, heedless of the interruption. "_Scene_,
a stony valley near a Selenite stream; the Projectile on the right, half
buried in volcanic _scoriae_, but apparently not much the worse for the
wear; r