"Why, those are palaces!"
"Well? Why not? Why shouldn't people work in palaces? It doesn't cost any more to make a beautiful building than an ugly one. Remember, we are much richer, now—and have plenty of time, and the spirit of beauty is encouraged."
I looked at the rows of quiet, stately buildings; wide windowed; garden-roofed.
"Electric power there too?" I suggested. Owen nodded again. "Everywhere," he said. "We store electricity all the time with wind-mills, water-mills, tide-mills, solar engines—even hand power."
"What!"
"I mean it," he said. "There are all kinds of storage batteries now. Huge ones for mills, little ones for houses; and there are ever so many people whose work does not give them bodily exercise, and who do not care much for games. So we have both hand and foot attachments; and a vigorous man, or woman—or child, for that matter, can work away for half an hour, and have the pleasant feeling that the power used will heat the house or run the motor.
"Is that why I don't smell gasoline in the streets?"
"Yes. We use all those sloppy, smelly things in special places—and apply all the power by electric storage mostly. You saw the little batteries in our boat."
Then he showed me the railroad. There were six tracks, clean and shiny—thick turf between them.
"The inside four are for the special trains—rapid transit and long distance freight. The outside two are open to anyone."