"My dear brother, the brutality of men lowered the birthrate—it didn't raise it! One of those undifferentiated peasant women would have a baby every year if she was married to a saint—and she couldn't have more in polyandry—unless it were twins! No, the birthrate was for women to settle—and they have."
"Out of fashion to have children at all?"
"No, John, you needn't sneer. We have better children than ever were born on earth before, and they grade higher every year. But we are approaching a balanced population."
I didn't like the subject, and turned to the clear skyline of the distant city. It towered as of old, but seemed not so close-packed. Not one black cloud—and very few white ones!
"You've ended the smoke nuisance, I'm glad to see. Has steam gone, too?"
"We use electricity altogether in all the cities now," she said. "It occurred to us that to pipe a leaking death into every bedroom; to thread the city with poison, fire and explosion, was foolish."
"Defective wiring used to cause both death and conflagration, didn't it?"
"It did," she admitted; "but it is not 'defective' any more."
"Is the coal all gone?"
"No, but we burn it at the mines—by a process which does not waste ninety per cent of the energy—and transmit the power."