Jules Verne Read Free

do we! And so do we!" replied half a hundred voices
confounded in one.
    "No! It ought to be in front!" shouted Phil Evans.
    "In front!" roared fifty other voices, with a vigor in no whit less
remarkable.
    "We shall never agree!"
    "Never! Never!"
    "Then what is the use of a dispute?"
    "It is not a dispute! It is a discussion!"
    One would not have thought so to listen to the taunts, objurgations,
and vociferations which filled the lecture room for a good quarter of
an hour.
    The room was one of the largest in the Weldon Institute, the
well-known club in Walnut Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, U. S.
A. The evening before there had been an election of a lamplighter,
occasioning many public manifestations, noisy meetings, and even
interchanges of blows, resulting in an effervescence which had not
yet subsided, and which would account for some of the excitement just
exhibited by the members of the Weldon Institute. For this was merely
a meeting of balloonists, discussing the burning question of the
direction of balloons.
    In this great saloon there were struggling, pushing, gesticulating,
shouting, arguing, disputing, a hundred balloonists, all with their
hats on, under the authority of a president, assisted by a secretary
and treasurer. They were not engineers by profession, but simply
amateurs of all that appertained to aerostatics, and they were
amateurs in a fury, and especially foes of those who would oppose to
aerostats "apparatuses heavier than the air," flying machines, aerial
ships, or what not. That these people might one day discover the
method of guiding balloons is possible. There could be no doubt that
their president had considerable difficulty in guiding them.
    This president, well known in Philadelphia, was the famous Uncle
Prudent, Prudent being his family name. There is nothing surprising
in America in the qualificative uncle, for you can there be uncle
without having either nephew or niece. There they speak of uncle as
in other places they speak of father, though the father may have had
no children.
    Uncle Prudent was a personage of consideration, and in spite of his
name was well known for his audacity. He was very rich, and that is
no drawback even in the United States; and how could it be otherwise
when he owned the greater part of the shares in Niagara Falls? A
society of engineers had just been founded at Buffalo for working the
cataract. It seemed to be an excellent speculation. The seven
thousand five hundred cubic meters that pass over Niagara in a second
would produce seven millions of horsepower. This enormous power,
distributed amongst all the workshops within a radius of three
hundred miles, would return an annual income of three hundred million
dollars, of which the greater part would find its way into the pocket
of Uncle Prudent. He was a bachelor, he lived quietly, and for his
only servant had his valet Frycollin, who was hardly worthy of being
the servant to so audacious a master.
    Uncle Prudent was rich, and therefore he had friends, as was natural;
but he also had enemies, although he was president of the club—among
others all those who envied his position. Amongst his bitterest
foes we may mention the secretary of the Weldon Institute.
    This was Phil Evans, who was also very rich, being the manager of the
Wheelton Watch Company, an important manufactory, which makes every
day five hundred movements equal in every respect to the best Swiss
workmanship. Phil Evans would have passed for one of the happiest men
in the world, and even in the United States, if it had not been for
Uncle Prudent. Like him he was in his forty-sixth year; like him of
invariable health; like him of undoubted boldness. They were two men
made to understand each other thoroughly, but they did not, for both
were of extreme violence of character. Uncle Prudent was furiously
hot; Phil Evans was abnormally cool.
    And why had not Phil Evans been elected president of the club? The
votes were exactly divided between Uncle