1230000193751_

This is written from memory, unfortunately. If I could have
brought with me the material I so carefully prepared, this would
be a very different story. Whole books full of notes, carefully
copied records, firsthand descriptions, and the pictures--thats
the worst loss. We had some birds-eyes of the cities and parks;
a lot of lovely views of streets, of buildings, outside and in, and
some of those gorgeous gardens, and, most important of all, of
the women themselves.

Nobody will ever believe how they looked. Descriptions
arent any good when it comes to women, and I never was good
at descriptions anyhow. But its got to be done somehow; the rest
of the world needs to know about that country.

I havent said where it was for fear some self-appointed
missionaries, or traders, or land-greedy expansionists, will take it
upon themselves to push in. They will not be wanted, I can tell
them that, and will fare worse than we did if they do find it.

It began this way. There were three of us, classmates and
friends--Terry O. Nicholson (we used to call him the Old Nick,
with good reason), Jeff Margrave, and I, Vandyck Jennings.

We had known each other years and years, and in spite of
our differences we had a good deal in common. All of us were
interested in science.

Terry was rich enough to do as he pleased. His great aim was
exploration. He used to make all kinds of a row because there
was nothing left to explore now, only patchwork and filling in,
he said. He filled in well enough--he had a lot of talents--great
on mechanics and electricity. Had all kinds of boats and motorcars,
and was one of the best of our airmen.

We never could have done the thing at all without Terry.

Jeff Margrave was born to be a poet, a botanist--or both--but
his folks persuaded him to be a doctor instead. He was a good
one, for his age, but his real interest was in what he loved to call
"the wonders of science."

As for me, sociologys my major. You have to back that up
with a lot of other sciences, of course

(*_*)1230000193751_

Nobody will ever believe how they looked. Descriptions
arent any good when it comes to women, and I never was good
at descriptions anyhow. But its got to be done somehow; the rest
of the world needs to know about that country.

I havent said where it was for fear some self-appointed
missionaries, or traders, or land-greedy expansionists, will take it
upon themselves to push in. They will not be wanted, I can tell
them that, and will fare worse than we did if they do find it.

It began this way. There were three of us, classmates and
friends--Terry O. Nicholson (we used to call him the Old Nick,
with good reason), Jeff Margrave, and I, Vandyck Jennings.

We had known each other years and years, and in spite of
our differences we had a good deal in common. All of us were
interested in science.

Terry was rich enough to do as he pleased. His great aim was
exploration. He used to make all kinds of a row because there
was nothing left to explore now, only patchwork and filling in,
he said. He filled in well enough--he had a lot of talents--great
on mechanics and electricity. Had all kinds of boats and motorcars,
and was one of the best of our airmen.

We never could have done the thing at all without Terry.

Jeff Margrave was born to be a poet, a botanist--or both--but
his folks persuaded him to be a doctor instead. He was a good
one, for his age, but his real interest was in what he loved to call
"the wonders of science."

As for me, sociologys my major. You have to back that up
with a lot of other sciences, of course

...

Filtros

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