s hurts those who have left the
other world not to be able to communicate with their friends, and at
least assure them of their present welfare."

"It does seem to me," replied Brenton, "that would be a great
consolation, both for those who are here and those who are left."

"Well, I don't know about that," answered the other. "After all, what
does life in the other world amount to? It is merely a preparation for
this. It is of so short a space, as compared with the life we live here,
that it is hardly worth while to interfere with it one way or another.
By the time you are as long here as I have been, you will realize the
truth of this."

"Perhaps I shall," said Brenton, with a sigh; "but, meanwhile, what am
I to do with myself? I feel like the man who has been all his life
in active business, and who suddenly resolves to enjoy himself doing
nothing. That sort of thing seems to kill a great number of men,
especially if they put off taking a rest until too late, as most of us
do."

"Well," said Ferris, "there is no necessity of your being idle here, I
assure you. But before you lay out any work for yourself, let me ask you
if there is not some interesting part of the world that you would like
to visit?"

"Certainly; I have seen very little of the world. That is one of my
regrets at leaving it."

"Bless me," said the other, "you haven't left it."

"Why, I thought you said I was a dead man?"

"On the contrary," replied his companion, "I have several times insisted
that you have just begun to live. Now where shall we spend the day?"

"How would London do?"

"I don't think it would do; London is apt to be a little gloomy at this
time of the year. But what do you say to Naples, or Japan, or, if you
don't wish to go out of the United States, Yellowstone Park?"

"Can we reach any of those places before the day is over?" asked
Brenton, dubiously.

"Well, I will soon show you how we manage all that. Just wish to
accompany me, and I will take you the rest of the way."

"How would Venice do?" said Brenton. "I didn't see half as much of that
city as I wanted to."

"Very well," replied his companion, "Venice it is;" and the American
city in which they stood faded away from them, and before Brenton could
make up his mind exactly what was happening, he found himself walking
with his comrade in St. Mark's Square.

"Well, for rapid transit," said Brenton, "this beats anything I've ever
had any idea of; but it increas