THE MOONCALF PASTURES
Cavorecia. Bedfordecia. Bedfordecia. Hic—Limited. Mean—unlimited! Practically."
Certainly I was intoxicated. I embarked upon an argument to show the infinite benefits our arrival would confer upon the moon. I involved myself in a rather difficult proof that the arrival of Columbus was, after all, beneficial to America. I found I had forgotten the line of argument I had intended to pursue, and continued to repeat "sim'lar to C'lumbus"' to fill up time.
From that point my memory of the action of that abominable fungus becomes confused. I remember vaguely that we declared our intention of standing no nonsense from any confounded insects, that we decided it ill became men to hide shamefully upon a mere satellite, that we equipped ourselves with huge armfuls of the fungi—whether for missile purposes or not I do not know—and, heedless of the stabs of the bayonet shrub, we started forth into the sunshine.
Almost immediately we must have come upon the Selenites. There were six of them, and they were marching in single file over a rocky place, making the most remarkable piping and whining sounds. They all seemed to become aware of us at once, all instantly became silent and motionless like animals, with their faces turned towards us.
For a moment I was sobered.
"Insects," murmured Cavor, "insects!—and they think I'm going to crawl about on my stomach—on my vertebrated stomach!
"Stomach," he repeated, slowly, as though he chewed the indignity.
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