IN THE YEAR 2889

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"She is late! Woman's punctuality! Progress everywhere except there!"
muttered Mr. Smith as he turned the tap for the first dish. For like all
wealthy folk in our day, Mr. Smith has done away with the domestic
kitchen and is a subscriber to the Grand Alimentation Company, which
sends through a great network of tubes to subscribers' residences all
sorts of dishes, as a varied assortment is always in readiness. A
subscription costs money, to be sure, but the _cuisine_ is of the best,
and the system has this advantage, that it, does away with the pestering
race of the _cordons-bleus_. Mr. Smith received and ate, all alone, the
_hors-d'oeuvre, entrees, roti_ and _legumes_ that constituted the
repast. He was just finishing the dessert when Mrs. Smith appeared in
the mirror of the telephote.

"Why, where have you been?" asked Mr. Smith through the telephone.

"What! You are already at the dessert? Then I am late," she exclaimed,
with a winsome _naivete_. "Where have I been, you ask? Why, at my