ple shall
come by hundreds and by thousands to visit the memorial shaft until the
story of Bunker's Hill is as old as that of Marathon.

Would not one like to attend twenty consecutive soirees, at each one of
which the lion of the party should be the Man of the Monument, at the
beginning of each century, all the way, we will say, from Anno Domini
2000 to Ann. Dom. 4000,--or, if you think the style of dating will be
changed, say to Ann. Darwinii (we can keep A. D. you see) 1872? Will the
Man be of the Indian type, as President Samuel Stanhope Smith and others
have supposed the transplanted European will become by and by? Will he
have shortened down to four feet and a little more, like the Esquimaux,
or will he have been bred up to seven feet by the use of new chemical
diets, ozonized and otherwise improved atmospheres, and animal
fertilizers? Let us summon him in imagination and ask him a few
questions.

Is n't it like splitting a toad out of a rock to think of this man
of nineteen or twenty centuries hence coming out from his stony
dwelling-place and speaking with us? What are the questions we should
ask him? He has but a few minutes to stay. Make out your own list; I
will set down a few that come up to me as I write.

--What is the prevalent religious creed of civilization?

--Has the planet met with any accident of importance?

--How general is the republican form of government?

--Do men fly yet?

--Has the universal language come into use?

--Is there a new fuel since the English coal-mines have given out?

--Is the euthanasia a recognized branch of medical science?

--Is the oldest inhabitant still living?

--Is the Daily Advertiser still published?

--And the Evening Transcript?

--Is there much inquiry for the works of a writer of the nineteenth
century (Old Style) by--the name of--of--

My tongue cleaves to the roof of my mouth. I cannot imagine the putting
of that question without feeling the tremors which shake a wooer as
he falters out the words the answer to which will make him happy or
wretched.

Whose works was I going to question him about, do you ask me? Oh, the
writings of a friend of mine, much esteemed by his relatives and others.
But it's of no consequence, after all; I think he says he does not care
much for posthumous reputation.

I find something of the same interest in thinking about one of the
boarders at our table that I find in my waking dreams concerning the
Man of the Mo