Kûltymo Tylû is favored beyond any city of our planet, for though it is within the equatorial zone, it is far enough northward to possess a moderately temperate and most salubrious climate. Then northward, Lake Ta̤imon and the great Waterway affords an outlet for shipping, passing not only in that, but in all directions, and Cēhylû Ooltēma̤h, rising in the far north, runs southward, pouring its immense volumes into the System, thus affording highways for vessels of the largest size. In the distance, and toward the northeast, is Lake Komû-tēlesa̤ (lake of Springs) another considerable body of fresh water, and if you will look in that direction you will perceive that, through a continuation of the Waterway, it communicates with Ta̤imon, and that on its placid bosom vessels great and small are passing to and fro. Later, through observation, you will learn that the Waterways with their attendant feeders, directly or indirectly connect with nearly all the freshwater lakes and rivers of our Planet, and that all within certain degrees of latitude are embraced by the system. Thus, Kûltymo Tylû has at its doors extensive water transportation, added to which Tûza̤mos and air Transports bring it into ready communication with all portions of the planet, from whence it receives all manner of products. In turn Kûltymo Tylû exports immense quantities of manufactured goods and art wares, but its principal distinction is its great art school and library, to which come students from all over Ento. I, like yourselves, am enchanted with the beauty of this white and gold city, which to me suggests a great white bird, its body resting on the broad plateau, the tip of one snowy wing touching Ta̤imon, the other spreading toward the lovely valley Insa̤lû, and the neck and head gracefully curving downward over the northern slope of the plateau, to drink of the shining, vivifying waters of the beneficent System. Bernard, have you naught to say of this great city?
Bernard—Yes, aside from cities of our Spirit World, I have seen none to compare with it. As my dear mother has said, the beauty of its architecture, its exceeding cleanliness and absence of poverty are its most attractive features, and I quite agree with her. But, Genessano, you did not complete your simile; you forgot to give your bird a tail.
Genessano—You are very right; I did forget. Well, for my tailless bird I shall from among yonder gleaming, golden domes and snowy towers, whose symmetrical beauty is heightened by a southern background of fleecy clouds and azure sky, gather plumage as fine as that of alzoyta̤s, the sacred bird of Astranola̤, whose wide-spreading wings over-shadow death's darkened realm.
Gentola—I beg that you will not take offense at my boy's inconsiderate speech. During his Earth life always he saw the droll side of things, and in that direction I do not find him changed.
Bernard—Mother, dear, I meant no offense; so Genessano could take none.
Genessano—That is as true as truth. Bernard and I are as two opposing mirrors, each reflecting images upon the other's face; thus one never misunderstands the other's motives, and Bernard's ever are kind. Let this fraternal embrace assure you of our mutual good will.
De L'Ester—We will rise to the upper balcony, from which we will command a still more extensive view of the city and its suburbs, and you, Gentola̤, will give expression to whatever may impress you.
Gentola—To me the extent of this city is surprising. Eastward its limit is beyond my power of vision. Southward domes, turrets and lofty columns lose themselves amid the mists of the horizon. Northward, for mile after mile, on the level; thence down the sloping plateau and across the far reaching plain, the white and gold wonder spreads itself. In that direction, in the middle of some of the wide streets, are canals, on which small boats, carrying passengers or freight, are passing to and fro. At intervals the canals are spanned by handsome bridges, over which a variety of vehicles are passing. Toward the southwest Ta̤imon, which you say is nearly twenty miles away, mirrors in its waters the great warehouses and manufactories which line its shores. It occurs to me to ask why chimneys are not features of Ento architecture. Even those great structures have none.
Inidora—Many centuries previous to my existence on Ento electrical appliances had come into such general use that in all cities, towns, villages and pretentious country places, they almost were the sole agencies for heating, lighting, culinary and other purposes, and yet some families of the Soûvannallos and of another race far southward, still adhere to ancient domestic usages. Certainly they are the only Entoans who persist in using fireplaces and chimneys, which no longer are features of Ento architecture.
De L'Ester—Northward and southward, along the level of the plateau, and eastward and westward, toward Insa̤lû-Valley and Lake Ta̤imon, there are many stupendously tall and massive towers, whose average height is about one thousand feet, and whose bases seem substantial enough to support Ento's satellites. The skill and daring involved in their construction is both admirable and surprising. In their interiors are elevators which carry to the height of their summits persons and things connected with their service. They are used for a system of electric lighting, and also as watch towers during the annual floods and on their summits are as fine observation telescopes as we have seen. Yes, when those great towers are lighted, night is well nigh turned into day. How little the peoples of our planet yet comprehend what may be, and ere long will be, accomplished through the agency of electricity, whose civilizing power is illimitable. I should like to inform you as to one of its achievements, and at another time will do so.