pened, he was to go on taking pictures.
"It is all well enough,” said our master, "for you children to see what is happening and to talk about it later, but who would believe you? We know that the camera can not lie. That is why it is important to take a consecutive picture of what occurs. Otherwise, you might think that I have been able to hypnotize you. Now, I will look down this tube. I see at the bottom in the hanging drop a transparent balloon. It is a pretty sight. Watch me carefully as I will myself to shrink. I will go on talking as long as I can, and you must listen carefully, because the smaller I am the less audible will be my voice.
"Now I am twelve inches high. I am standing near the microscope. I become still smaller and now I am only one inch tall and am standing on the eyepiece. No doubt, you can barely hear me. Now I am smaller yet and am ready to will myself through the glass of the eyepiece."
THE room was silent. We looked, shivering, at the microscope, and the professor was gone. The chemist staggered over to the instrument, looked into it, and silently staggered back to his seat.
On the screen in front of us the inhabitants of the drop of water lived and moved and had their being. Largest of all was the transparent jelly-fish, which was moving restlessly as though seeking a way of escape. The only sound in the room was the whir of the cinema and the harsh breathing of the chemist.
Then, on the screen, came a new figure, and we were able to identify the professor, swimming among the infusoria. Gaining his balance, he at last stood upright and waved his hand at us. It was easy to see his smile, that condescending smile that had so often driven us frantic. There was no doubt from the expression on his face that he was highly pleased with his performance. None of us dared look at his fellow; not one of the audience thought for a second of taking his eyes off the silver screen. We were stunned, stupefied and filled with a wild terror, all the more horrible because of its silence.
The professor started to swim again and now approached the jelly-fish. He tapped the crystal walls; then, as though seized with a sudden impulse, he went to the bottom, jumped up through the mouth and entered the translucent ball of protoplasm. He peered at us through the transparent walls. His arms made a series of peculiar movements and once again he smiled at us.
"My God!" exclaimed the artist. "He is wigwagging to us in the army code. He said, 'I have done it, and now I will return to your world.'"
And, as though beginning to keep his promise, he started for the mouth of the jelly-fish ; and then—and then
The mouth closed.
The professor circled the glasslike ball, seeking a way of exit. Once he waved at us in a peculiar manner, and then suddenly he sought the wall and, with arms and legs, tried to break through. On his face was now the look of ghastly despair. The things on top of the jelly-fish began to glow—no doubt now that they were eyes, and bright ones.
Before us, the professor slowly disappeared into a globule of milky protoplasm. The jelly-fish not only had made him a prisoner, but had actually dissolved and digested him. With a shriek, the artist went over to the wall and turned on the electric lights. Trembling, the chemist looked down the tube of the microscope and told us that there was nothing in the hanging drop save the jelly-fish.
