The most peculiar human condition of Airess, according to my view, is the manner in which these people sleep.  They do not lie down and gradually drift into unconsciousness, but they lie motionless and still retain full consciousness.  The rest comes from the quietness of the bodily members.  It is not even possible for these creatures to become mentally insensible to their surroundings, except by an accident or through medical treatment.

I was most impressed, however, as I learned of the powerful eyesight which these people enjoy.  Their eyes are indeed little telescopes, capable of examining heavenly bodies with as much accuracy as we are enabled to do with the aid of magnifying glasses.

Then comes the surprising statement that these same people have never invented anything similar to a spy glass or a telescope.  Imagine how far they could peer into the depth of space if their own gifted eyesight were augmented by good magnifying glasses.

I spent a little longer time on Airess than on some other planets because I found that I could more easily understand the philosophy of their attainments.

The last moments of my stay were spent in the largest structure of this whole world, the central building of education.  From this structure endless lines of power and influence are maintained all through the territorial divisions of Airess.

I studied this unusual plan of education and viewed with delight the ponderous portion of this imposing edifice.  At last I bid farewell to all these mute instructors and, looking skyward, fixed my mind on the shores of another world.

CHAPTER X.

Floating Cities.

Almost everyone is familiar with Ursa Major, or the Great Dipper, that lies in such bold relief in the region of the northern heavens, and that apparently revolves around Polaris, the North Star.

The nearer of the two stars that help to form this famous Dipper and that point toward Polaris, is called Dubhe by our astronomers.  This star and its interesting solar system next claimed my attention.

From Earth I had often looked with admiring wonder at the starry firmament, and during many an evening I had drawn the imaginary lines from star to star outlining the Great Dipper, commencing with the end of the handle and finishing with the star just named at the outer edge, or rim.

As I came near to Dubhe, I scanned the surrounding skies and was surprised to find that the whole semblance of my dipper was lost.  Instead of lying in a plane, these stars were widely separated, so far that a billion miles gives no fair hint of the distance.

Many new stars, previously invisible, now shone in great glory so that the whole celestial field presented new aspects.  Far away I looked toward our Sun; it sparkled like a tiny star, and none of the planets of our Solar System were visible.