The record I will select for reproduction is as follows: 

. . . — . . .—­ . . . — — — . — — . . . — . . .
. . - - - - . . . . . - - - . . . . . . . . . .
- — . . . . — — — — — — — — — — — — —
- - . . . - - . . . - - - - - . . . . . . . - -
- . . - . . . - - - - - . . . . . . . - - . -
. . . . — — — . . . — — — — — — — — — —
- - - - - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - - - -
- — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
- . . . — . . . — — — . . . — . . . — . . .
- — — — — . . . . — — — . . . . — — — —

CHAPTER II.

As I now know there is a Martian language, if this communication came from that planet, which was my own and my father’s deepest conviction, it would be impossible to interpret the foregoing record with any certainty, or indeed, in any way.  Absolute ignorance of that language, except the brief mention in my father’s communications, received by myself from that body—­whose publication before I die is the sole purpose of this manuscript—­make it quite certain that it is in the main a vowel language, consisting of short vocalic syllables.  In such a case it is probable that some abbreviation has been used, and the problem of its resolution simply is placed out of the question.  I may here partially forestall the facts communicated to me by my father from Mars.  In those unparalleled messages he has told me of the desire of the Martians to communicate with the earth, and as the Martians themselves are largely made up of transplanted human spirits, the possibility of doing so would have been completely expected.  But the singular evanescence of memory amongst these humans which absolutely displaces details of strictly mnemonic acquirements, except in certain directions of art and invention, has apparently precluded this.

We remained at the register almost the entire night taking turns in our tireless vigil.  But no more disturbances occurred.  My father was deeply moved and I scarcely less so.  Accustomed as we had become to the thought that wireless telegraphy would place us more readily in touch with the sidereal universe than with distant points upon our earth, presuming indeed, that, except for the intervening envelopes of atmosphere attached to our or any neighboring planet, the path of transmission of messages through space would be inconceivably swift, we saw nothing really impossible in the impression that we had that night received communications from extra-terrestrial sources.

The thought was none the less stupendous, and it seemed almost impossible for us to allude to the subject without a peculiar sense of reverential self-suppression, at least for a week or so.  Examination and inquiry showed us no contiguous source of the message and it seemed most improbable that it had come to us from any distant part of the earth, as we had become acquainted with the difficulty or impossibility of bridging our very great distances with the resources then at human command, and with the unavoidable exigence of the earth’s convexity.