- and SECOND, when my own dear Sarah indignantly accused the "moral surgeon" of an uncharitable and unchristian highfalutin' Yankee dirth of Cotton Baler hospitality toward our guest, the brave Texas patriot and glorious (and handsome, she added) Ranger - when she said all that, the Metal Man agreed, apologized to Sam Walker with a bow of obeisance, and expressed his condolences for the dozen Rangers Sam had recently lead into immortal glory in his perhaps too-brave, too-patriotic and too-irregular raid of a `cross- Mare rancho, leaving their corpses to be pecked by Lunar abolitionist crows -

<<Irregulars being the polite term for state vigilantes sanctioned not by President Polk, not even by General Taylor, to make an illegal raid upon foreign soil - # % * @ - to kill and be killed on soil that Texas does not even claim. You wanted to impress Taylor enough to legalize your Rangers into his army. But you only humiliated yourself. - # % * @ - Is that not the only reason you risked your life beyond all reason to carry a message from Taylor through the siege lines to this fort?>>

These two comments had the effect of snuffing the candle of our fireworks and hooping and hollering with two spoon-fills of dirt and doom. I expected Captain Walker to throttle the Metal Man for these lies. But no, he just stood there, growling and groaning quietly to himself like a wounded animal, agitated but humbled, flicking his pistol-fingers, looking at the ground with an angry pain and a dusty weariness on his face.

Sarah was impressed. "What do you know? The Yankee Perfessor pricked a hole in Sam Walker's balloon!"

Then, in the see-saw silence of nearly four hundred Slow-Polks breathing stunk-up Bomb-Proof air, punctuated by General Lunarista's slow and steady iron rain on our heads, the Prince- President began ticking and tick-tocking that Babbage Calculating Machine head of his, and, doing his metal moral duty, he speechified and stumped us with an oratory of his own mechanical composition. It was a retort by way of Reason to Lunarista's irrational appeal to our Christian faith and to our supposed moral substance (supposing it rational, I mean) which he supposed would work on our Saint Patties like a magnet might stick to those church bells he rang and rang (before he banged and banged his cannonade).

<<There are the reasons why we are on the Moon... As follows - # % * @ - >>

P. P. F. S. first explained first the Monroe Doctrine, and then the Polk Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine. That was more or less familiar- sounding and we all nodded our heads at its good sense. Then he drew a picture of the worlds, old and new, and let us take a gander at it. It put our purpose into a grand context.

He explained that the astronomers called the System of Spheres an unfriendly word, "Terrahelioduoepicentric" which only meant the friendly news that the Awful Deity had designed an Earth-Sun Two- Centered System.

<<The fact that the sun revolves around the earth proves without question that Providence favors the Sphere of the U. S. A. - >>

( - And here we interrupted him with riotous cheerful applause, whistles, and hooray-fer-Jacksons - )

<<Would Providence have founded this government on another Sphere, or cease rolling the sun around our Earth, then would the righteousness of our great Destiny be questionable - # % * @ - Any questions - ?>>

"Yessir," I called, raising my hand. "I hear tell that them Sphere- paths are getting a bit wobbly. If true, does that have any effect on the campaign to secure the Lunar P. of T., and even the whole scene of Freedom-fightin' as seen by the Liberty-lovin' eyes of this here Army of Observation?"

<< - # % * @ - As a matter of fact - >> And then he gave a most strange and unfortunate reply.

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