eventh of February, 2300 B.C.

CHAPTER XIII

THE HABITABLE GLOBE

The term "Habitable Globe" was doubtless invented by some Celestial
Humorist who had never visited this planet.

People live on it, to be sure, but they have no choice. There is nowhere
else to live.

The Giddy Globe ...*

* Isn't it about time to drop this
personal simile?
_The Reader._

... Quite so. Suppose we consider the Globe as an Apartment House.

We are told it was finished in six days. No wonder it is faultily
constructed.

The Heating Apparatus is out of date. The apartments nearest to the
Radiator are insufferably hot, those farthest away unbearably cold, and
those between too changeable for comfort.

The Water Supply is unreliable. In some apartments, great numbers
perish every year from thirst.

In the cellar there is a munition factory where, in defiance of
regulations, there are stored High Explosives. These blow up from time
to time, causing great damage and loss of life among the tenants.

The janitor is a disobliging old person who has been there since the
house was started and holds his job, in spite of incessant complaints.
When asked to hurry, he fairly crawls and, when people want him most to
stay, nothing can stop him.

His name is Tempus.

CHAPTER XIV

THE TENANTS

The first tenants (as before stated) were a young couple who had been
compelled to leave a more luxurious apartment because children were not
allowed, though animals of all kinds, even snakes, were tolerated.

[Illustration: POST-IMPRESSIONIST SAVAGE]

On the whole, the Globe is anything but a model Apartment House. Each
family considers itself the only respectable one in the building and
they are constantly squabbling for the possession of the most desirable
rooms.

The tenants of the different stories, originally of one colour, have
been tanned according to their proximity to the Solar Stove. They come
in five shades of fast colours--Black, Brown, Yellow, Red and
White,--the White being farthest away from the Stove.

There are also some brighter colours, which are not guaranteed,--varying
from the chromatic discord of the post-impressionist Savage to the
delicate rose-pink of the Perfect Lady.

This last is the most delectable of all--but, alas, it is the one that
fades most quickly.

[Illust