So, as I said, when I had been tearing along this way about thirty
years I begun to get uneasy. Oh, it was pleasant enough, with a
good deal to find out, but then it was kind of lonesome, you know.
Besides, I wanted to get somewhere. I hadn’t shipped with the idea
of cruising forever. First off, I liked the delay, because I
judged I was going to fetch up in pretty warm quarters when I got
through; but towards the last I begun to feel that I’d rather go to
– well, most any place, so as to finish up the uncertainty.
Well, one night – it was always night, except when I was rushing by
some star that was occupying the whole universe with its fire and
its glare – light enough then, of course, but I necessarily left it
behind in a minute or two and plunged into a solid week of darkness
again. The stars ain’t so close together as they look to be.
Where was I? Oh yes; one night I was sailing along, when I
discovered a tremendous long row of blinking lights away on the
horizon ahead. As I approached, they begun to tower and swell and
look like mighty furnaces. Says I to myself –
“By George, I’ve arrived at last – and at the wrong place, just as
I expected!”
Then I fainted. I don’t know how long I was insensible, but it
must have been a good while, for, when I came to, the darkness was
all gone and there was the loveliest sunshine and the balmiest,
fragrantest air in its place. And there was such a marvellous
world spread out before me – such a glowing, beautiful, bewitching
country. The things I took for furnaces were gates, miles high,
made all of flashing jewels, and they pierced a wall of solid gold
that you couldn’t see the top of, nor yet the end of, in either
direction. I was pointed straight for one of these gates, and a-
coming like a house afire. Now I noticed that the skies were black
with millions of people, pointed for those gates. What a roar they
made, rushing through the air! The ground was as thick as ants
with people, too – billions of them, I judge.
I lit. I drifted up to a gate with a swarm of people, and when it
was my turn the head clerk says, in a business-like way –
“Well, quick! Where are you from?”
“San Francisco,” says I.
“San Fran – WHAT?” says he.
“San Francisco.”
He scratched his head and looked puzzled, then he says –
“Is it a planet?”
By George, Peters, think of it! “PLANET?” says I; “it’s a city.
And moreover, it’s one of the biggest and finest and – ”
“There, there!” says he, “no time here for conversation. We don’t
deal in cities here. Where are you from in a GENERAL way?”
“Oh,” I says, “I beg your pardon. Put me down for California.”
I had him AGAIN, Peters! He puzzled a second, then he says, sharp
and irritable –
“I don’t know any such planet – is it a constellation?”
“Oh, my goodness!” says I. “Constellation, says you? No – it’s a
State.”
“Man, we don’t deal in States here. WILL you tell me where you are
from IN GENERAL – AT LARGE, don’t you understand?”
“Oh, now I get your idea,” I says. “I’m from America, – the United
States of America.”
Peters, do you know I had him AGAIN? If I hadn’t I’m a clam! His
face was as blank as a target after a militia shooting-match. He
turned to an under clerk and says –
“Where is America? WHAT is America?”
The under clerk answered up prompt and says –
“There ain’t any such orb.”
“ORB?” says I. “Why, what are you talking about, young man? It
ain’t an orb; it’s a country; it’s a continent. Columbus
discovered it; I reckon likely you’ve heard of HIM, anyway.
America – why, sir, America – ”
“Silence!” says the head clerk. “Once for all, where – are – you –
FROM?”
“Well,” says I, “I don’t know anything more to say – unless I lump