An Afterglow
PARIS
I peg away at my lectures with fair success and as far as picking up copy-books for them goes may be said to have succeeded—my last, for the final full draft, a brilliantly cover-colored affair with a map of France for frontispiece. It should be Mars.
Bearing upon Mars, on the rectilinear appearance of the canals, is the clipping enclosed which will interest you and Morse if he drops in. It explains why the lines do not appear as curved as they should. The eye rectifies them.
My lectures are to be a wedding of Earth to Mars through geology. In consequence I have been devouring works on the subject of our own Earth's history, both English and French.
One makes curious visual acquaintances in the courts of these French hotels. There is a man over the enclosed way who spends his time at little else than trimming and brushing his hair! He only varies this performance by brushing his clothes.
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