Relating how the Beautiful Picnic Progressed.
Shortly before six o'clock all arose. The Doctor and his wife, at her earnest solicitation, ascended to the observatory to witness the sunrise. Mattie had manifested symptoms of vertigo that morning on first looking out, and decided not to go up with them. The exertion of climbing that long flight of stairs flushed the lovely face of Mrs. Jones, and her cheeks were like twin roses when they reached the observatory. Once there, she was glad to sit and rest. The Doctor opened the windows and then sat beside her. Mrs. Jones sat quiet and dumb, hands clasped, looking out upon the most glorious scene her eyes had ever beheld. The sun was just peeping above the horizon. The painting of the clouds; the variegated face of the earth; the pure, balmy atmosphere; the great globe beneath their feet; the exquisitely graceful shaft that pierced the vault nearly one hundred feet above their heads, bearing our beautiful symbol of liberty; all these, combined with the inspiration that always attends looking out upon the works of God from great elevations, thrilled the souls of the two spectators as they had never been before in their lives. Thus they sat in silence drinking in the beauties of the morning for nearly a quarter of an hour. Approaching steps upon the stairway broke the spell, and the Professor and Fred stepped into the observatory. As they looked out upon the transcendent loveliness of the scene, the Professor raised his hands above his head and cried: "'What is man, that Thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that Thou visitest him? Thou hast made him little lower than the angels, and crowned him with glory and honor.' You told us yesterday that you never felt so little as when you looked out from this magnificent aerie; but I declare to you, Doctor, that I feel now that God has made man a wonderful being. As we go thus sailing through these roseate skies in this most splendid creation that ever came from the hands of man, I feel like crying with old Elisha, 'My father! My father! The chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof.'"
They sat a few minutes and then descended to the cabin. Mattie, Will, and Denison were upon the balcony, speculating as to what city they were rapidly approaching. Dr. Jones looked at it through his glasses, and said: "That is Columbus, the capital city of Ohio. Those great stone buildings you see there, inclosed by high stone walls, constitute the state prison. It contains at present, I believe, nearly three thousand convicts."
"The poor things!" said Mattie. "Just think of the contrast between sailing so smoothly and easily as we are doing, away above the world with all its cares and sorrows, and being incarcerated within those gloomy walls, many of them for life. I am sure that if they could become 'Children of the Skies,' they would all reform in a short time."
"No, no, Mattie," replied the Doctor, "God did infinitely more than that for man. He placed him in the garden of Eden, and he transgressed the only restrictive law laid upon him. And he became so vile that the Lord was compelled to drown them like so many rats. Beautiful and inspiring though our present circumstances and surroundings are, yet they could never change the hearts of the majority of those miserable men."
Breakfast was now announced by Sing. The bracing atmosphere of this upper region seemed to be very appetizing, for they all ate heartily.
The ship was acting splendidly, continuing at nearly the same level of the day before, and but little fuel had been burned during the night. The wind had shifted to the south, and they were sailing twenty miles an hour, due north. The Doctor rubbed his hands gleefully. "We're getting there now, ladies and gentlemen, we're getting there finely. Nothing could be better."
The sweet, happy valleys of Ohio were so exceedingly beautiful; the little towns appeared so pure and lovely to the voyagers; and the people were out in such crowds, cheering them so lustily, that our friends could do little else than sit through the day and watch them through their glasses. And numerous were the dispatches they wrote and cast from the balcony. They could see the people rushing eagerly for them, as they reached the earth.
"I wish we had a morning paper," sighed Fred. "I do not doubt that we receive some mention in it."
"That is about the only thing I have missed so far," said the Professor. "But we can well afford to forego that luxury for what we are now enjoying."
"And I really do wish we could attend church Sunday mornings," said Mattie.
"Oh! we will have a church service," replied Denison. "I notice that the Doctor has brought with him a book of sermons and a Bible. Then we have an organ, and the best choir I ever heard. The Doctor or Professor can act as parson; and, to make the thing realistic and homelike, I will pass the contribution box."
"I will see that he uses a bell punch," cried Fred. This suggestion was immediately rejected as unworthy of one of the Children of the Skies.
The Professor sat consulting a map. "We are heading straight for Cleveland," he remarked.
"I am really glad of that," said Dr. Jones. "That is my old native town, and I have not seen it for many years. The population has doubled several times since I left it, immediately after the war."
An hour or so later, as he stood upon the balcony, the Doctor suddenly shouted, "There's Cleveland! And that town this side of it is Berea, the great stone quarry place. Do you see on the north side of the town those brick and stone buildings in a campus? That is Baldwin University, where I attended school several years. You didn't dream, dear old girl," said he, tenderly and apostrophizingly to said institution of learning, "that you would ever turn out such a sky traveler as I am, did you?"
All the glasses were turned upon the University. "We shall pass directly over it," said Fred.
"They have sighted us!" cried the Doctor excitedly. "See the students pouring out of the buildings! Let's give them some messages." This they did in a liberal shower.
They had lowered to the five hundred foot level, so that a good view might be taken of the beautiful metropolis of Ohio—Cleveland. They were just about passing over it.
"What a splendid city it has grown to be," said Professor Gray.
"Yes, indeed," replied Dr. Jones. "That portion of the city," continued he, pointing with his finger, "was formerly called Brooklyn Center. I was born a mile or so from there. Yes!" he cried, looking earnestly through his glass, "I am quite sure that I can see the old two-story farmhouse where I was born. It is, sure as shooting! There is grandfather's farm where the 'Gunpowder tea' party was held that I told you of. And off here are the Heights, or South Cleveland. In 1862, when I joined the army, that was Camp Cleveland. It was then covered with rough wooden barracks, but now you see that it is densely built up with houses. My regiment, the 124th O.V.I. was in camp there three months before we went south."
"You must have been a very small soldier at that time," said Mattie.
"Yes," he replied, "I was but fifteen years old at that time. I didn't do much good or harm, for I was but a snare drummer the first two years of my soldiering, and the last year I was detailed as mounted orderly at brigade headquarters. But just see the people! Give them some messages! We shall be out of 'Yankee Doodle' land very soon."
So the half million (more or less) of Clevelanders were treated to a shower of greetings.
"If I had thought sooner, I would have dropped anchor here and given my old townies a handshake," said the Doctor.
"Too late now, Doctor. We have passed the principal portion of the city, and will be above Lake Erie in two or three minutes."
"Yes, yes, I see," sighed the Doctor. "But we may see you again. Good-bye, Cleveland."
The blue water of Lake Erie was now rolling beneath them. Steamers and sail vessels thickly dotted the face of the beautiful lake; for the traffic and travel upon these great inland seas are exceedingly large. The Canadian shores were visible, and when Sing announced dinner, the splendid domain of Her Majesty Victoria, Ontario, lay widespread before them. It was hard to realize that they were not still in their own land, so much like it did the peaceful towns, villages, and farms appear.
After dinner, the five men, in the little smoking-room, lighted their pipes and cigars, and entered into a general chat.
"If this wind holds, we shall be in the Arctics in two or three days," said Will.
"I suppose that we shall then be obliged to get out our furs," replied Fred.
"No," returned the architect. "These walls are double as well as the floor, with air chambers between, and I can turn hot air into them at pleasure. The windows and doors are all double, also, and Jack Frost can never penetrate this cabin."
"What a contrast between this luxurious sail through the sky, and the buffetings upon sea and land, the hunger, cold, and oftentimes death, suffered by former Arctic explorers," said the Professor. "And, Doctor," he continued, "if we make a successful trip, the matter of aerial navigation will have been settled. What a power this ship would have been in the late war of the Rebellion."
"The war would have been very quickly terminated if our globe had been in existence at that time," returned Dr. Jones. "We could have sailed above the reach of their best guns and dropped bombs upon them that would have destroyed their forts, gunboats, and armies at will. But I am glad things were as they were. We fought a fair fight to the finish, and settled forever the question of human slavery in America. Had the first few battles of the war been won by the North, the South might have laid down their arms, and have been permitted to retain their institution of slavery. When Lincoln issued his Emancipation Proclamation, I remember that even we soldiers in the field received the news with a sort of shock, and thought our President over-bold. We had not thought of that extreme measure as a result of the war. We were simply out to preserve the Union."
"And right well you did it, Doctor," said Denison. "I have always noticed in reading the history of that war, that in the latter part of it you fought with much greater skill and judgment than you did in the first year or two."
"That is quite true, and nothing more than what might have been expected," replied Dr. Jones. "It is marvelous what we accomplished with an absolutely empty treasury, no credit, no standing army to speak of, and our little navy scattered to the four ends of the earth. The vast, splendidly drilled armies which we brought into existence as if by magic, were the wonder of the world. We had everything to learn, both North and South, in the matter of logistics. Long lines of communications had to be kept open, and such splendid raiders as John Morgan, Forest, Mosby, etc., were not slow to break them frequently, so that I remember going to bed supperless many times after a hard day's march, because our rations had been captured and burned. Our wagon trains were something immense, while the big Bell tents were in use; but after what were called by the boys 'pup tents,' or 'dog tents,' were introduced, the wagon trains were cut down at least three-fourths. For the pup tents we carried upon our backs, and so dispensed with the great Bell tents that were hauled in wagons. Our trains had been so large and cumbersome that military movements were inconceivably slow, and the war could never have been fought to a successful issue by the North on those lines."
"I suppose, Doctor, that you were in some of the great battles?" asked Fred.
"Yes, I was in the battles of Chickamauga, Missionary Ridge, through the Atlantic campaign; then under General Geo. H. Thomas we marched back into Tennessee, fought a desperate battle at Franklin, and a few weeks later annihilated the army at Nashville. While we were doing this, Sherman was making his renowned march to the sea. But I'll spin you some of my experiences before we get back home. Let's join the ladies."
"I should never tire hearing your war stories," said Fred.
"Yes; and you would be the first one to go to sleep if I should tell you of the battle of Chickamauga or Missionary Ridge."
This Fred stoutly denied. "All right," said the Doctor. "I'll test you one of these evenings."
"The sooner the better," replied Fred. "And now let's have some music."
They sang several anthems and choruses, and all retired at an early hour, except Denison, who stood watch.
In the Heart of Labrador.
The central room of the cabin was called the 'engine room.' It was fifteen feet square, with a hole three feet in diameter in one corner, now securely covered. It was used for lowering or hoisting objects through while the globe was at anchor. An aluminum frame or cage, attached to a windlass by a chain of the same material, was used for this purpose. A powerful coil steel spring operated the windlass. In each of the other corners of the room were anchors of aluminum, also attached to windlasses and worked by steel springs. There was a dynamo that afforded abundance of light for the ship. This, too, was run by spring power. The rooms of the cabin were brilliantly lighted, and the spiral stairway, from the foot of the mast which stood upon the center of the floor of the engine-room, was illuminated by several lights, up to the observatory itself. At the top, or ball of the mast, was a light of thirty-two hundred candle power. Altogether, the ship must have been at night an object of terrific splendor to the observer below.
Will was the originator of the steel-springs motor idea, and he daily attended to winding them with great faithfulness and pride. And it was a most invaluable adjunct to the comfort and success of the expedition, as will be seen before the end of this history is reached.
At daylight, on the following morning, all were up and looking out upon wild Canadian forests. Here and there were small towns and settlements, but they realized that they were fast hastening beyond the pale of civilization. The wind had moved during the night into the southwest, and the Professor informed them that they were sailing at the rate of more than thirty miles an hour.
"If this wind will only continue, we shall not be long reaching our destination," said the Doctor. "While I am enjoying the trip splendidly, yet I am anxious to reach the Pole as soon as possible. After that we will start on a general sightseeing tour. But until I have planted our aluminum shaft exactly upon the north end of the earth's axis, sightseeing is but incidental and secondary."
All day they skimmed like a frigate bird across the face of Canada, at an altitude of about two thousand feet. All were delighted with the behavior of the ship. Her capacity for floating and retaining heat far exceeded their most sanguine expectations.
It was interesting to watch the fast changing appearance of the country, and they could note that the timber was rapidly growing smaller. Clearings and settlements became more and more rare, and as the day closed they were looking upon primitive, unbroken forests, known only to hunters, both white and red.
Another night passed without incident. The wind held all night in the same quarter. On the following morning the beautiful ship was enveloped in a dense fog. "We are in the midst of a great cloud," said Professor Gray.
"I think we will rise a few hundred feet and see if we can get out of it," replied Dr. Jones.
The temperature within the globe was raised a few degrees, and the ship rapidly rose to twenty-five hundred feet altitude. This carried them high above the clouds, and it was with new and strange sensations that our aerial navigators looked down upon the dense cloud that obscured the face of the earth from their view. The sun, meantime, was shining with what seemed to them greatly increased splendor in this super-cloud region.
"Well, girls," cried the Doctor, "I am for some exercise. Who will mount with me to the observatory?"
They each assented, and a few moments later were sitting in that elevated place, very warm and breathless from the unwonted exercise of the long climb. This was Mattie's first visit to the observatory, and her eyes dilated with terror as she looked over the rolling sides of the massive globe.
"O, Doctor, Doctor! isn't this perfectly awful! Think of what the very slightest mistake or mishap would do. We should go flying down through those clouds, and be dashed to pieces in those uninhabited Canadian forests. And I suppose that our friends would never hear of us again.
"Tut, tut, Mattie. Cheer up, little girl," said the doctor, very soothingly, and patting her head with his steady, strong hand. "No mishap is possible. We cannot explode, collapse, burn, collide, nor capsize. No enterprise ever entered upon by man possessed so much of interest and importance, and was attended by so little of the element of danger. You were never safer in your life than you are at this moment. Think of it! Here we are above the clouds, the world with all its care and heartaches shut out, basking in this glorious sunlight, sailing on in this clear, bracing, microbeless atmosphere. The clouds beneath our feet, the sun above our heads, and God's empyrean all about us. What can be more inspiring and grand? How does the chorus of that old hymn run?
'Let us look above the clouds,Above the clouds, above the clouds;Up above the stormy cloudsTo fairer worlds on high.'"
The Doctor sang this simple chorus in his great sonorous voice that rang out over the clouds like a bugle blast.
"Well, I declare Doctor, you will not let me get into a real good fright," cried Mattie, smiling through eyes filled with tears.
"No, indeed, I will not, Mattie. The only fear I have now is that we may keep breakfast waiting. Let's descend."
The forenoon passed away very uneventfully. About the middle of the afternoon they were treated to a splendid spectacle. A terrific thunder storm raged beneath them; and as they looked below into the inky depths of the thunder clouds, pierced and riven by jagged lightnings, followed by deafening bellowings and crashings of thunder, and then cast their eyes up to the sun shining in full-orbed splendor over all, they realized as never before the presence and majesty of Omnipotence.
At four o'clock, P.M. the storm clouds cleared away, and the bleak, uninviting face of Labrador was plainly visible. The ship had settled to an altitude of fifteen hundred feet, and was moving northeasterly at the rate of thirty miles an hour.
"Isn't that a settlement I see ahead a few miles?" asked Will.
The Doctor and Professor Gray decided that it must be a fort or trading post. The ship, meantime, was lowering quite rapidly, and was but eight hundred feet above the earth.
"I have a mind to drop anchor at that fort for the night," said Dr. Jones. "Some fresh meat, especially game and fish, would not be at all bad to take. What do you all say?"
A general desire was expressed to do so.
They could see that the inhabitants of the place were greatly excited, and were running to and fro. The globe was lowered to within three hundred feet of the earth. As they neared the spot, two of the anchors were dropped, and soon caught in the birch tree tops. The ship strained tremendously at the cables for a moment or two, and then rode easily at anchorage, three hundred feet above the buildings.
"Fort ahoy!" shouted the Doctor.
"Ahoy!" replied a hoarse voice.
"What fort is this?"
"This is not a fort, but Constance House."
"Well, we are a party bound for the North Pole, and we wish to buy some provisions."
"All right. Come down, and we will do the best we can for you. But I think you have scared everybody on the place about to death."
The spring power was turned on, and the windlasses drew the globe to within one hundred feet of the earth. Then the Doctor and Denison descended in the cage. They met a splendidly built, large man, dressed in a semi-arctic suit of woolens and furs. The two voyagers introduced themselves, explained their business, and they were received very cordially by this man, John Barton, the proprietor and owner of Constance House. He invited the whole company to descend and make themselves at home as long as they desired to remain. So two by two they descended, Sing also joining the group below. The anchors were lashed to the trunks of the trees to prevent accidents from sudden gusts of wind.
They found Constance House to be a large one-story stone building, which served for both residence and storeroom. One-half of it was devoted to the storage of provisions, clothing, and such other goods as are required by hunters and trappers. These Mr. Barton exchanged for furs with said hunters and trappers. Hunting, trapping, and fishing constituted the sole business of the simple-minded inhabitants. Here they are born, live, die contentedly, knowing little of and caring nothing about the great world which the most of us are so anxious to possess.
Barton's family consisted of a wife, two strapping sons, who were hunters and trappers, and a daughter. The daughter's name was Jennie, aged eighteen. She was a strong, healthy, beautiful girl. Nothing could exceed the loveliness of her skin, the whiteness of her even teeth, or the graceful shapeliness of her form. Mrs. Jones and Mattie were immediately drawn to her. She met their advances freely and frankly, though her manners showed at once that she was not accustomed to such society. But she was so unaffectedly sweet and pure that the two ladies loved her all the better for her unsophistication. Mrs. Barton was an invalid, and they did not see her that evening.
After a bountiful supper the whole party drew up to a vast fireplace. In it roared a huge fire, for the night was very cold and frosty. For a time the air-ship and the object of their voyage was discussed. The admiration of Barton and the inhabitants of Constance House for the globe was unbounded. The wind had lulled away to a very gentle breeze, and the superlatively splendid globe hung above them so majestically, and glistened so beautifully in the moonlight, that it is not wonderful that these people, who saw and knew so little of the outside world, should be struck dumb with wonder and astonishment as they looked upon it.
"I must say," said Barton, "that I never experienced such sensations in my life as I did when your ship hove in sight. I have been mate of some good ships in my time, and have traveled over a good portion of the earth. I have seen many strange sights on land and sea, but this beats them all by so much that I shall never mention them again. And you are going to make the North Pole beyond a peradventure. Nothing could please me so well as to make one of your party. But my poor, poor wife!" He dropped his face into his hands, and tears trickled down upon his massive grey beard. The two sons and Jennie also participated in their father's grief.
"What is the matter with your wife?" asked Mrs. Jones, very gently. "Perhaps Dr. Jones might do something for her."
"No, no, madam; her case is a hopeless one. I took her down to Montreal last year, and the best medical men there were consulted. They could do absolutely nothing for her, and I have brought her home to die. I wanted to stay there with her, where she could have more of the comforts of life, but she preferred to come back to Constance House."
"While I know nothing of the nature of your wife's disease, yet I will say that I have cured many cases of so-called incurables. It is not that I know more of the nature of disease than the average physician, but I use drugs that they know nothing of, will not investigate, look at, nor even touch with the longest of tongs," said Dr. Jones.
"But, Doctor, my wife's case is cancer. They showed me the latest and best authorities, and they invariably gave what they called an 'unfavorable prognosis.' You would not undertake to say that this fearful disease is curable, would you?" cried Barton, very earnestly.
The Doctor saw that he had a very intelligent and well-informed man to deal with. He had conceived a liking for the grand old man, and desired, with all his good and kindly heart, to help this noble family in its distress and isolation from the civilized world. So he said slowly and impressively:
"Mr. Barton, I came to you this afternoon like a messenger from the skies. The way in which I came, and the ship in which I sailed, ought to entitle my word to some weight with you. Now I am going to say this: I have cured cancers, and believe that a large percentage of them are curable. I would like to see your wife, and if I can do anything for her, I shall be glad to do it."
"I thank you, Dr. Jones, with all my heart. Come right in with me," and Barton led the way to his wife's room. Half an hour later the Doctor came from the sick room, went out, jumped into the cage and mounted to the globe. He returned in a few moments and said: "I have here medicine, Mr. Barton, that is certain to do your wife a great amount of good. And I am quite positive that it will work a perfect cure. Her symptoms point so unmistakably and pronouncedly to a certain remedy that I feel safe in assuring you of immediate relief. I shall be much surprised if you do not see less pain, burning, restlessness, thirst—in short, a decidedly better night than she has known for months."
Constance House was not prepared with sleeping accommodations for so large a company of visitors, and at ten o'clock they mounted to the ship for the night. At seven o'clock on the following morning they all descended again and partook of the substantial breakfast prepared for them by Jennie, with the help of a half-breed Indian girl.
The surprise and delight of the family was immeasurable at the palliative effects of Dr. Jones' medicine. Mrs. Barton had rested quite comfortably nearly all night, a thing that she had not done in many months. Barton grasped the Doctor's hand when he first appeared in the morning, and could not speak for emotion.
"That is all right, Mr. Barton; just what I expected."
"Doctor, you have inspired me with a degree of hope that I never expected to know again. Do you really think you can cure her?"
"Mr. Barton, I will just reiterate what I said to you last night: I have seen some astonishing cures done by the remedy indicated by the symptoms, and in what we call a 'high potency.' I cannot stop to explain all this to you, but you can rest assured that it is the only help or hope for your wife. Anxious though I am to be off toward our destination, yet I am going to stop over and study your wife's symptoms more closely, and leave you medicines with written directions as to their use."
The joy of the Barton family was unbounded at this announcement of the benevolent Doctor.
After breakfast, Denison, Fred, and Will decided to accompany the Barton boys up the river that flowed near Constance House, visiting their traps.
"What game do you have in this country?" asked Denison.
"We have reindeer, bear, wolves, foxes, hare, marten, otter, and in the spring and summer we have an abundance of geese, ducks, etc.," replied Joe, the elder of the boys. Sam was the younger of the brothers, and they were aged twenty-three and twenty-one years respectively. The voyagers were surprised at the correctness of their speech and other indications of education.
"Our mother is an educated woman, and has taken great pains with our education," said Sam in reply to a remark of Denison upon the subject. "And she has done as much for father. Our long winter nights we always spend in reading, music, and sometimes in such games as chess, backgammon, drafts, etc. Mother is a most splendid mathematician. She is also quite a linguist. But I am afraid that mother's days of teaching are over in this world. Dr. Jones is exceedingly kind, but do you really think that he has any hopes of curing her?" And the two sons looked anxiously into Denison's face as they awaited his reply.
"Well," replied Denison slowly, as if carefully weighing his words, "I have known Dr. Jones more than twenty years very intimately, and I tell you candidly that you may rely implicitly upon his word. He is a physician of remarkable skill, and to my positive knowledge has cured several cases of cancer that had been, like your mother's, given up as incurable. So I should hope a great deal if he gives you encouragement."
"God is good, and has heard our prayers," said Sam.
While this party spent the day until the middle of the afternoon paddling from trap to trap, capturing three otters, and catching several dozen beautiful trout and black bass, the Doctor and the Professor ascended with Mr. Barton to the ship. As he passed through the elegant rooms of the cabin, and saw the wonderful degree of comfort, and even luxury, that our voyagers were enjoying, he cried out, like the Queen of Sheba, "The half was never told!" And the wonderful metal of which everything was composed where practicable—aluminum—excited his special interest.
"Without this metal you could never have made the trip," he declared. But when he had mounted the spiral stairway, and was standing in the observatory, for some time he was speechless. As his eye ran up the shining mast, then off over the glistening sides of the globe to the earth, three hundred feet below, then away over the trackless wastes of Labrador, he finally exclaimed, "This, gentlemen, is too wonderful for me. I cannot give expression to my feelings. If you had told me that you were visitors from Venus or Mars, I should be obliged to believe you."
And so they sat and discussed for an hour or more the object of the expedition, and the probability of success. All agreed that, so far as human thought and judgment could foresee, failure was hardly possible. They descended to the cabin. The aluminum mast especially attracted the attention of the old sailor.
"And you intend erecting this magnificent spar at the North Pole!" he exclaimed, all his sailor instincts thoroughly aroused. "How do you intend to manage that business, Doctor?"
"We shall be governed in that matter entirely by circumstances," replied Dr. Jones. "I do not know what we may find there, and so cannot say exactly what we may have to do. But I shall consider the trip a partial failure if I do not leave this stately shaft, exactly to the quarter of an inch, standing at the North Pole, with that aluminum flag flying at its peak, there to float till time shall be no more."
"Well, Doctor, I am a thoroughbred British subject, and can't help wishing that it was the Union Jack that you were going to leave there; but you deserve all the honor of the occasion, and I am glad to bid you Godspeed," said Barton heartily.
"Thank you," replied Dr. Jones, "now let us go down and see further about your wife's case. I must be off to-morrow morning, bright and early."
The Doctor and Barton repaired to the sick chamber. After nearly an hour they left the house, walked down to the river bank, and talked long and earnestly concerning the treatment of Mrs. Barton.
"I will tell you just what I am doing for your wife, and the grounds I have for hope. I think, under the circumstances, that an exposé of the rationale of my treatment is due you, for two reasons, first, because I desire to give you a reason for the hope that is within me, and so make you as happy and comfortable as possible by filling you up with a lively faith; secondly, because I delight in instructing intelligent people in what I conceive to be the only rational and scientific system of medicine known to man.
"In this pocket-case book, you will observe that I have taken Mrs. Barton's symptoms very carefully and minutely:
"1. A fearful and apprehensive state of mind. She cannot tolerate being left alone.
"2. Intolerable thirst for cold water. Drinks often, and but a sip or two at a time.
"3. The pains are very sharp, lancinating, and burning.
"4. She is always worse at night, from twelve o'clock until two or three, A.M. The pains then are intolerable, and burning like red-hot iron, so that you are obliged to hold her in your arms to prevent her doing herself injury.
"5. Great restlessness.
"6. Skin yellow, or straw-colored, dry and wrinkled.
"7. Very emaciated and weak.
"There are quite a number of other symptoms of less importance, but all are found under but one drug in all the earth, and that drug is arsenic. Do not be alarmed at the name, for the doses I give are absolutely immaterial and can do no harm. But they do possess a curative power that is truly miraculous and past the comprehension of man. What gives me greater hope and confidence in your wife's case is the fact that she has never been under the surgeon's knife. Operations for cancer not only do no good whatever, but they reduce the patient's chances of cure, so that after the second or third one the case is rendered absolutely incurable. And another thing greatly in her favor is that she has taken but little medicine, and so I have been able to get a clear picture of the case. And I must strictly forbid the use of any drugs whatever, internally or externally, except what I give you."
"But, Doctor, the terrible odor!" said Barton, "Must I not use the disinfectant as I have been doing?"
"No; nothing but washing with warm castile soap-suds, two or three times daily. The odor will all disappear within a few days."
"Well, that is astonishing! And is arsenic the remedy for all cases of cancer?"
"Not by any manner of means. That is the great mistake of the medical world in all ages. They are continually on the lookout for specifics, or medicines that cure all cases of any given disease, irrespective of symptoms. Every case must be taken upon its individual merits, and differentiated upon symptomatology alone. And a drug must be prescribed that is indicated by the symptoms. Anything more or less than this is unscientific, and a contrariety to one of God's most beautiful and universal laws—'Similia similibus curanter,'—'Like cures like.' That is to say, arsenic is the remedy for your wife, because, when taken in material doses, it always produces symptoms identical with those manifested in her case. Hence I meet them with immaterial doses of that drug. Had her symptoms been different, then I should have been obliged to seek and find, if possible, a drug capable of causing this different set of symptoms, whatever they might have been. Now this rule of law holds good throughout all the field of medicine, except that which is purely surgical. Do you catch the idea?"
"I do, Doctor, I do; and I declare that it looks very reasonable as you put it. I like the theory, and if it always holds good in practice, then it is certainly one of the most beneficent of God's laws."
"Thousands of times, Barton, in an active practice of more than twenty-five years, I have tested this law; and I tell you, as an honest man, and one who expects to answer for the deeds done in the body at the bar of God, that it never failed me once. I have failed many times because I could not read aright the symptoms of the case; or when it was an incurable affair, rendered so by drugs and surgery," said Dr. Jones with great earnestness. "But come, I have given you quite a medical lecture. Let's look up the girls and see what they are about."
A Messenger from the Skies.
Mrs. Jones and Mattie had found Jennie to be a lovely, intelligent, and more than ordinarily educated girl. While unused to society, yet there was an honest straightforwardness about her that was very charming. The two ladies became easily intimately acquainted with her. Her whole soul was devoted to her mother, and the hope that Dr. Jones had inspired shone from her eyes. She became quite cheerful and merry. And the effect upon the poor invalid was not less visible. She insisted upon sitting in her easy chair by the fireplace, and joined in the conversation.
Sing, meantime, had installed himself as the presiding genius of the kitchen, and he and the half-breed Indian girl were getting along famously together.
"How long have you lived in this place, Mrs. Barton?" asked Mrs. Jones.
"Twenty-three years," replied she.
"Well, have you not found it a very monotonous existence?"
"I did at first; but as my children were born, my mind and heart were so taken up by them that time did not hang heavily upon our hands. I really believe that we are much happier than the majority of people in the towns and cities."
"O, if mother can but get well, it seems to me that I shall never be discontented again in Constance House!" exclaimed Jennie, her eyes filling with tears.
"My poor girl does long sometimes to see the great world," said Mrs. Barton, stroking the head of Jennie, who was sitting upon a stool at her feet. "Well, my dear girl, I believe that God, in his infinite mercy, has sent us help directly from the skies; for I must say that last night, as I lay the first time for many weary months free from pain and awful burning and restlessness, that I thanked God as I had never done before; and my faith went out to Him so that I felt a great peace settle upon me. He has blessed the means being used. I shall recover, my darling girl."
Jennie, in a paroxysm of joy, threw herself at her mother's feet, and buried her face in her lap, weeping as she had never done in her life. At this juncture the Doctor, Professor Gray, and Mr. Barton entered the room.
"Tut, tut," said the Doctor, seeing the tears streaming down the faces of the four women, "what sort of business is this? You ought to all be laughing instead of crying. There is nothing to cry about, I assure you."
"Doctor," said Mrs. Barton, extending her hand to him, "you do not understand. We are rejoicing, and this is just our poor woman's way of doing it."
"I see, I see," said the jovial Doctor. "Well, now wipe away your tears, and give God all glory. He has sent me, a poor weak mortal, simply as a messenger to administer that which will save you from a loathsome disease and death. All glory be unto Him."
He then began singing softly and reverently, the others joining:
"God moves in a mysterious wayHis wonders to perform,He plants his footsteps in the sea,And rides upon the storm.Deep in unfathomable minesOf never failing skill,He treasures up his bright designs.And works his sovereign will.Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;The clouds ye so much dreadAre big with mercy, and shall breakIn blessings on your head."
"And now, Mrs. Barton, you must come out and see the chariot in which the Lord sent us," cried Dr. Jones gayly.
The poor invalid stood in the door and looked up at the great globe that shimmered and glistened like burnished silver in the rays of the setting sun. How proudly and serenely it rode above their heads as if conscious of its own unparalleled beauty, and its blessed mission in this present instance. She gazed upon it a few moments in speechless rapture, her poor emaciated hands clasped upon her breast.
"This is too marvelous for me," she cried. "What am I that God should send deliverance to me in so glorious and majestic a ship of the skies! I am lost in wonder and praise. Glory be to His holy name forever and forever."
"Amen!" responded the listeners fervently.
The canoe party returned at four o'clock, P.M. All were tired and ready to sit about the generous fire; for evening was at hand, and the air was already sharp and frosty.
"And how did it happen, Mr. Barton, that you came to settle away up in this barren wilderness?" asked Professor Gray.
"I do not know that I know myself," returned Mr. Barton. "I was taken sick at a boarding-house in Montreal, and was sent to a hospital. I was at that time master of the bark Twilight, a Liverpool craft. Mrs. Barton was then a beautiful girl—don't blush so, Mrs. Barton. Jennie there is a perfect reproduction of you as I first saw you, and I should not be ashamed of our Jennie anywhere on earth. Well, as I was saying, Mrs. Barton, named at that time Miss Constance Schmidt, the daughter of a Moravian missionary, visited the hospital frequently as an angel of mercy. So far as I was concerned it was a case of love at first sight. She nursed me back to health; and, with the usual ingratitude of man, I married her for her pains. I then gave up the sea after a trip or two, and settled in Montreal. But I could not get used to, nor like the conventionalities of city life. So I made a trip into these wilds. I saw an opportunity to do a good business in furs; and so, with wife's consent, we settled on this spot. I built this house, which I named in honor of my wife—Constance. I have done fairly well financially, and I am sure that we have been quite happy and contented. Until Mrs. Barton's illness, I was without a care or worry in the world."
"But don't you find the winters very long and terribly cold?" asked Fred.
"On the contrary, we enjoy our winters very much. To be sure, the thermometer runs from thirty to fifty degrees below zero; but if the wind does not blow, we suffer very little from it."
"What do you do to pass the time?" asked Will.
"The boys, when the weather is favorable, trap and hunt. I am getting a little too old and heavy for much of that; so I attend to the chores about the place, trade goods for furs to the hunters and Esquimaux. Our evenings are passed in reading, one often reading aloud to the rest of us. And we have a great deal of music. Joe plays the violin, Sam the flute, and Jennie the guitar or dulcimer."
"By the way," cried Fred, "Let's have a musical soiree to-night. What do you all say?"
This proposition was enthusiastically received.
"Come, Will, let's run up and get the organ. Will you go up?" addressing Joe and Sam.
"Go up, my sons, and see this Alladin's palace," said Mr. Barton. "You will never see its like again."
In half an hour they returned. The young Bartons were wildly enthusiastic in their praises of the globe.
"Jennie, you must not fail to see the wonderful air-ship," cried Joe. Mattie, Jennie, Will and Fred visited the globe, returning just in time for a splendid supper prepared by the skillful Celestial, Sing. All that the larders of both Constance House and the globe afforded had been drawn upon, and it is doubtful if in all inhospitable Labrador a more elaborate and bountiful table was ever spread.
The Doctor, at Mr. Barton's request, asked the Divine blessing, and all fell to and ate with an appetite that is known only to those of clear consciences and sound digestive organs. Having done justice to the really splendid meal, they repaired to the sitting room. The beautiful aluminum organ graced the center of the apartment, and the musicians gathered about it. Fred was surprised and delighted to find that the young Bartons were all really accomplished musicians, and their instruments blended in sweetest harmony. So they played a number of orchestral pieces that were received with great applause by the audience. Then solos, duets, trios, quartettes, choruses, etc., were sung, and it is not probable that the Barton family ever spent so delightful an evening in their lives. And let us just contemplate the scene for a moment. How happy, joyous, and innocent they were, just as God intended his children to be. Two days before, this lovely family had been in the depths of despair, day by day watching a beloved wife and mother dying by inches of a painful, lingering, loathsome disease. Not a sound of music had been heard in the house for many days. The violin, guitar, and dulcimer had lain utterly neglected and unstrung. Now a change has occurred that must have delighted the angels of God. Through the unselfishness, skill, and noble-heartedness of one man, has come so unexpectedly, as if dropped from the very skies, in the heart of one of the most inhospitable portions of the earth, sweet hope and deliverance. What wonder that their hearts are light and merry? One thought only mars their pleasure: to-morrow morning the Children of the Skies will sail away in their glorious sky-ship, probably never to return.
At ten o'clock the company broke up, the ship company ascending, as before to their staterooms. Barton would not hear to anything else than that they should descend in the morning for the last time. How sad these earthly partings are. It will not be so in that better land.
Is the World Growing Better?
Before daylight on the following morning they descended to breakfast. Mrs. Barton had enjoyed a comfortable night, and Dr. Jones expressed himself as delighted with her condition.
"You have everything to hope for," he said to the family. "I leave you this medicine, with written directions for its use. Do not repeat the dose I have given her so long as improvement continues. When it ceases you will do as directed in my written instructions."
The hour of departure had arrived. Farewells had all been said, and the company had ascended except the Doctor and his wife.
"I cannot say what I wish to you," said Barton, taking each of them by the hand. "I simply look upon you as messengers from God, and I want to give you something more substantial than thanks." He placed a buckskin sack of gold in the hand of Dr. Jones.
"Oh! no, Mr. Barton, my good friend," said the Doctor, handing it back; "I won't take a cent. You are ten thousand times welcome to anything I have done. I feel myself richly remunerated in the satisfaction of leaving you all happy."
"Take it, Mrs. Jones, as a present from me," said Barton, and he pressed it into her hand. "You will really hurt me if you do not accept it."
"Then I will do so, Mr. Barton. Good-bye," and away they shot up to the cabin. At a given signal Joe and Sam cast the anchors off, they whizzed up to the engine-room, and the mighty ball bounded skyward like a bird in the clear, frosty morning air. A very brisk wind was blowing from nearly due south, and the voyagers were delighted with the progress they made that day toward their destination.
All day they sped at more than forty miles an hour over the vast elevated plains that were but barren wastes, growing every hour drearier and more desolate.
"Of all the misnomers on earth, the name given this country ranks first," said Professor Gray.
"What is the meaning of the word 'Labrador,' Professor?" asked Denison.
"The literal meaning of the word is 'cultivable land.' As to its appropriateness, you can judge for yourselves. I do not know who bestowed upon it this misfit of a name, but it must have been a hardy explorer, who did it in a fit of spleen and wretchedness."
"The Barton family seems to be comfortable and happy in poor old Labrador," said Mrs. Jones.
"Yes, but my dear madame, they do not live by cultivating the land," returned the Professor. "The seasons are too variable, and the changes of temperature are far too sudden to permit raising of crops of any kind."
"Mr. Barton told me that they did raise a little garden stuff, such as onions, lettuce, and radishes; but potatoes, corn, etc., invariably are nipped by frost, and never mature," said Denison.
The Professor, a few moments before noon, ascended to the observatory with sextant and chronometer, and determined the latitude and longitude of "Silver Cloud," as Mrs. Jones had named the aluminum ship. He made the entry in his logbook.
"There is our exact position now, Doctor," and he placed the point of a pencil on the map of Labrador.
"In forty-eight hours we will be within the Arctics at this rate of speed," cried Dr. Jones, rubbing his hands with delight.
The face of the country was so uninteresting and monotonous, covered more or less with snow, that the voyagers became tired of looking at it, and turned their attention to various pursuits within the cabin. Becoming tired of music, they read, played games, conversed, etc.
The Doctor and Professor were each expert chess players, and their games were long and closely contested. Victory perched about as often upon the banner of one as the other.
Fred worked daily upon a composition which he entitled "The North Pole March," and declared that the music should be played by himself, while the rest of the company marched around the aluminum flagstaff, after its erection at the summit of the earth, the North Pole. The two ladies were greatly interested in Fred's composition, and hummed and sang it with him, offering suggestions here and there that were of more or less benefit to him.
Denison and Will spent their time attending to the springs, watching the thermometers and barometer. This, however, occupied but little of their leisure, and they played many games of checkers and backgammon. Will took an occasional snapshot with his camera when he saw anything of interest. He had taken some excellent photographs of Silver Cloud and company, which he had left with the Barton family. Who can doubt that they were an unfailing source of delight and tender remembrance to this intelligent and interesting family, as they sat about their great fireplace during the long winter nights. And the artist had taken some sketches of Constance House and inhabitants, which he had brought with him. He had converted one of the spare bedrooms into a studio, and spent an hour or two daily upon a portrait in oil of Jennie Barton. The fact of the matter is, the unadorned beauty and grace of the lovely Jennie had touched his artistic taste beyond anything that he had ever experienced in his life. And away deep in his heart, almost unknown to himself, was a determination to spend a summer season at Constance House, as soon after their return from the Pole as possible.
Silver Cloud all this time was hastening with the speed of a carrier pigeon, nearly due north. Dr. Jones and Professor Gray could not repress their satisfaction each day as their observations showed them to be moving straight as an arrow toward the object of their journey. The altitude they maintained was very little more or less than three thousand feet, and the wind continued from the south at the rate of twenty or thirty miles per hour. The outside temperature was balmy and bracing during the day, so that the balcony afforded them a splendid promenade, where they spent hours daily, exercising in walking round and round the spacious cabin, and studying the topography of the country. Frequent trips were also made to the observatory, and sitting there with the windows open was very inspiring, as well as comfortable. To thus sit in so elevated a place with the windows wide open, while in a state of perspiration, the result of climbing the long stairway, would seem to have been the height of imprudence. But we must remember that such a thing as a breeze or draft of air was never felt on board the Silver Cloud while in motion. The great ship went exactly with the wind, and at precisely the same rate of speed. So, whether the wind blew one or a hundred miles an hour, it was always a dead calm aboard the Silver Cloud.
"This is the ideal place for all catarrhal and pulmonary cases," declared Dr. Jones. "I shall always prescribe a trip in Silver Cloud for this class of patients hereafter."
"I fully believe in its efficacy," said Professor Gray. "But I fear that it will be too expensive a prescription for many of your poor patients."
"That's the trouble, that's the trouble," assented the Doctor, shaking his head sadly. "Millions are yearly dying that might be saved by this and other means on the same line. But the blindness and selfishness of mankind is so absolute and infernal that but little philanthropic work of this sort can be done. There are some noble exceptions, or we should have suffered the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah long since."
"But, Doctor, you believe that the world is getting better, do you not?" asked Will.
"In what way?"
"Well, in every way. No one can doubt that in the arts and sciences more has been done in the past fifty years than in all the previous history of the world."
"Granted," assented the Doctor.
"All right. Then let us look at the social, moral, and spiritual sides of the question. Socially, certainly, no period of history can compare with the present. We are educating our children, feeding and clothing them better than they ever were before in the world."
"I really think we are," again assented Dr. Jones.
"Well, then," cried Will, glowing with triumph, thinking that he was fairly smoking the little Doctor out, "what can you say foryourside of the question? Was there ever a time when life and property were so protected as now? And were there ever so many Bibles and tracts and other religious matter published and disseminated as at the present time? Missionaries are going by thousands all over the earth, and the gospel will soon have been preached to all nations."
"That's so, that's so," concurred the Doctor again.
"Come, come, Doctor; defend your side of the question," cried Fred.
"I did not know that I had committed myself to either side," returned he. "But I will say this much: While I am not pessimistic as to the outcome of this struggle going on between God's and Satan's forces in the world, yet we should not overlook the fact that the devil is fearfully active in these times. While I have admitted all that Will has said, yet there is another side to the question. Let me call your attention to the fact that there never was a time when there was so much rum and tobacco used in the world as to-day. The amount consumed per capita is increasing tremendously. Remember that with every missionary there are sent in the same ship from seventy-five to one hundred gallons of intoxicants, and tobacco galore. Never has this world seen so vast preparation for war. The people of all Europe are groaning beneath the taxation imposed upon them for the support of vast armies and navies. At no time has money been piled up in the hands of the few as at the present. Hundreds of millions in many instances are held by a single individual. By no sort of philosophy can he be entitled to it, and by no system can he come into possession of it without robbing thousands of his fellowmen. And as to inventions: surely no man delights more in the splendid achievements of our age in this direction than I do. But I declare to you that I believe labor-saving machinery to be a mighty curse to mankind, because the laborer is being driven closer and closer to the wall by the innumerable inventions that are driving him out of every field of labor. The great money kings are taking advantage of every such invention, and what the end is to be I do not dare predict. Ignatius Donnely's fearful picture in his work, Caeser's Column, I hope and believe to be terribly overdrawn. And, as I said before, I am not pessimistic as to the final outcome; but let us beware of crying 'Peace! peace! when there is no peace!' The fact is, gentlemen, I cannot help thinking that St. James referred to these very times, when he said in the fifth chapter of his epistle: "Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl for the miseries that shall come upon you. Your riches are corrupted and your garments are moth-eaten. Your gold and silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped up treasure together for the last days. Behold, the hire of the laborers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth: and the cries of them who have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabbaoth." See James, 5-4. I cannot, in the light of these prophecies, see that the world is growing essentially better rapidly, if at all."
"But, Doctor," said Will, "you cannot deny that the children of these times are incomparably better clothed, have more and better books, live in more comfortable homes, and are enjoying privileges never known to children of former generations."
"While I must assent to what you have said, yet all these advantages are not unmixed blessings. In my experience as a physician, I have seen very many precious lives go out, simply because they could not endure the high pressure system of our modern educators. I feel so strongly upon this subject that I would prefer that a child of mine should live and die absolutely illiterate, than that he should sacrifice one particle of health for any conceivable amount of mere book-learning. I once had an uncle who was a man of wonderful learning. He was a collegian, a master of half a dozen or more languages, and for all this he paid the price of his good health. All his life, he suffered the pangs of an outraged stomach and nervous system. He could never make any use of his splendidly cultivated brain, and was a miserable, unhappy burden to himself and friends to the end of his life. His end was sad, tinged with the element of ridiculousness. He was sitting in a field one day, resting during a short walk, when a great vicious hog attacked him, tossed him about, rooted him here and there, and would have certainly killed him outright if his cries had not brought assistance. He never recovered from the effects of the injuries received on that occasion. Suppose poor old uncle could at that time have traded all his dead and modern languages for a pair of good stout legs, would it not have been a grand bargain for him?"
"But could not your uncle have been more judicious and systematic in the prosecution of his studies, and have done the same amount of work without detriment to his health?" asked Professor Gray.
"I do not doubt that he might. But our schools are run nowadays upon, as I said before, a high-pressure system. Too many children are packed into imperfectly ventilated schoolrooms, and the poor teachers are miserably overtaxed. But the schools are graded, everything cut and dried, the curriculum made by state or county board; and, like the tyrant's bedstead, those too long must be cut off, and those too short must be stretched. All must fit the bedstead. That great story-teller, Charles Dickens, tells the story exactly in his picture of Dr. Blimmer's system of teaching. That poor babe, Paul Dombey, might as well have been fed to an insatiable ogre as to have been placed in the hands of that pompous idiot. And our country is full of little Paul Dombeys, blossoming for eternity. How much better to have let the poor little fellow play in the sands upon the beach with his sister Florence and old Glubb. But the precocious innocent must be murdered by this same senseless system, because of the inordinate vanity of a foolish father, and the stupidity of his teacher. In vain have I warned hundreds of parents, when I saw their children thus being hurried to premature graves. But they are so proud of the precocious darlings that they seldom heed until it is too late. Faugh! the whole business makes me sick."
"Well, Doctor, admitting all you say, what do you suggest as the remedy? I have known many statesmen who could see and point out the evils, present or imminent, of society or state, with great sagacity and accuracy, but when it came to prescribing the remedy, were utterly impracticable," said Professor Gray.
"That is right, Professor Gray. It is very little benefit to a sick man to tell him that he is sick, or even to make for him a scientific diagnosis, if it be not supplemented by the remedy. I have remedial measures to suggest. In the first place, I would build schoolhouses upon strictly scientific principles; a certain number of cubic yards of pure air should be allowed each scholar, and the most perfect system of ventilation should always be used. Further, by way of homely illustration, I should treat the children upon the same principles that we do our horses. Some horses are calculated for heavy draught business, others for light draught, roadsters, racers, etc. I need not mention the folly of attempting to drive these animals out of their respective classes. Now children differ as essentially in their mental capacities and requirements as do horses physically. You can by no possible means make a mathematician of a scholar who is deficient in the organ of calculation. It is a manifest injustice to hitch such a one beside another who is a perfect racer in the mathematical field. It is not fair to either of them. I claim that each child should be treated upon his individual merits, and in accordance with the natural gifts that God has bestowed upon him. The graded school system is in direct opposition to this idea, and is wholly wrong and unscientific."
"Well, as to the curriculum, Doctor," said Will, "suppose you were called upon to abridge the list of studies in our public schools, where would you begin and end? Isn't it a pity in this age of the world, to shut off from the children any one of the branches of science or learning?"
"Indeed, that would be a great pity, and far be it from me to do anything of the kind. I would not abridge the curriculum for any child; it should simply be taught that for which it has a capacity. A teacher who is not capable of so discriminating and anticipating the wants of each pupil, is not a teacher in the best sense of the word, any more than a man is a horse trainer who cannot differentiate between a heavy draught-horse and a light roadster. I might say considerable as to methods of teaching, but I presume that you have heard enough for once."
"Yes, but we have not settled the question as to whether the world is getting better or not," returned Will. "I am willing to admit that our school system is defective. But what do you say as to the safety of life and property at this time, compared with any other age of the world?"
"Really, now, I wish an intelligent Armenian were here to answer that question."
"But that is not fair, Doctor. The Armenians are in the hands of the Turks and we know that they are capable of any conceivable inhumanity. I supposed that we were discussing the world so far as civilized. I really think that it is a clear case of 'begging the question,' when you introduce the Armenian case into the discussion."
"Do you, indeed! And let me inquire, my dear boy, who is responsible for this wholesale slaughter of a people whose only crime is that of being nominal Christians? Five or six centuries ago the combined governments of Europe would have made common cause against the infamous Turk for much less than the murder of a Christian nation. But to-day there is so much less of manhood in Europe than there was in the days of chivalry, that the civilized world is sitting calmly by and permitting this unspeakable crime to go on at the sweet will of the bloody-handed Turk. And do you not think that God will hold the nations of Europe to a strict account for this villainy that marks the closing decade of the nineteenth century as the blackest page in human history? God will surely avenge Armenia, and woe to Europe when He treads the wine-press of His wrath!"
As Will offered no reply, the discussion closed.