Off On A Shoreless Sea

: Doctor Jones' Picnic

About the middle of April appeared the following in one of the leading

papers:



"Last night our citizens, and a tremendous overflow of visitors were

treated to the most magnificent sight their eyes ever beheld. The great

aluminum globe, about which all the world has been agog for so long,

arose and stood for three hours above the city, some two hundred and

fifty feet. The whole mighty sphere was ablaze wit myriads of electric

lights, from the ball of the tapering flagstaff to the beautiful cabin

below. As it hung suspended above the city, connected with the earth by

but a slender aluminum chain that looked like a thread of silver

piercing the skies, a great hush fell upon the hundreds of thousands of

gazers below. All Nature seemed auspicious to the occasion. Scarcely a

zephyr was stirring, and the stars shone brightly down upon the scene

from cloudless skies. One hundred people, consisting of the President

and cabinet, senators, congressmen, editors, scientific and literary men

and women, were the favored party who occupied the gigantic ship.



"Suddenly there fell upon the ears of the waiting multitude the glorious

soprano voice of Mrs. Jones. So far above, yet so thrillingly sweet and

distinct, one could scarcely refrain from imagining that the Pearly

Gates had opened, and we were listening to the voice of one of the

Redeemed. But that illusion was soon dispelled, and we recognized the

familiar strains of "Star Spangled Banner." And when the whole hundred

voices swelled the splendid chorus, a great shout arose from the

multitude like the sound of many waters, beginning directly beneath the

globe, and spreading away in every direction like billows from a great

rock, dropped into the center of a quiet lake.



"And so, under the direction of Professor Marsh, brother of the

architect of the globe, a beautiful and appropriate musical program was

rendered, lasting nearly an hour.



"We venture the assertion that no performance was ever rendered to so

great an audience, and certainly not to one more appreciative. And we

predict that there will be a great demand for liniments and plasters for

some weeks to come. For standing two hours or more with the back of

one's head resting upon the cervical portion of one's spinal column, and

screaming at the top of one's lungs a good portion of the time, with

eyes unblinkingly and unwinkingly set upon the inconceivably splendid

globe, all this we assert to be highly conducive to stiff neck and sore

throat. And it is a question whether many of that innumerable, entranced

audience will be able to keep their hearts and minds upon things

terrestrial for a considerable time to come. From the bottom of our

hearts, we commiserate every member of the race who missed the sights

and sounds of last evening.



"All arrangements are now completed, and day after to-morrow, weather

favorable, Dr. Jones and party expect to sail at the hour of noon, away

for the North Pole. Nothing has been omitted that could insure the

success of the expedition, and we feel confident of all that could be

hoped for, or desired by the enterprising Doctor and friends."



The hour set for sailing had arrived. The day was beautiful, and a

moderate breeze was blowing toward northwest. With proud, happy hearts

the party of navigators stood upon the balcony that ran about the four

sides of the cabin. This balcony was one of the chief embellishments and

conveniences of the cabin. It was five feet wide, and extended, as

before said, about the four sides of the cabin. A balustrade four feet

high was built along its outer edge. A more exhilarating promenade could

not be conceived, and right well did our friends enjoy it during the

notable voyage which we are about to record.



The party consisted of Professor J.Q. Gray, the scientific

representative of the Smithsonian Institute; Miss Mattie Bronson;

Professor Fred Marsh; our four friends with whom the reader is

acquainted; and last, but not least, so far as bodily comforts were

concerned, Ah Sing, the cook.



As the globe arose slowly to the length of its cable, five hundred feet,

it seemed to the little company upon the balcony as if the universe had

assembled to see them off. On the streets, public squares, housetops,

decks of all ships upon the river, were crowds on crowds of people;

people anywhere, everywhere; far as the eye could reach was one vast,

countless host. What wonder that the heart of the Doctor swelled and

quickened as he looked upon the ocean of upturned faces below, and

realized that from his fertile brain had sprung the mighty object of all

this attention. How it pulled and surged at its silver-like cable, as if

it were a thing of life, and desired to be away toward its destination,

the North Pole!



The hour of noon was announced by hundreds of bells and whistles. The

Doctor waved a flag over the balustrade, the anchor was cut loose from

its fastenings, and away bounded the colossal sphere toward the ethereal

blue. Upward and still up it arose to the height of three thousand feet,

trending slowly toward the northwest.



The voices of the multitude sounded like the roar of the sea, and as it

grew fainter and fainter, the stout-hearted little party realized that

they were effectually cut off from the world--off on a limitless sea,

alone with God.