IN THE YEAR 2889

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dead, at least he is sleeping," he continued. "I wish I could get some
sleep. I am tired out, Doctor, quite tired out! Do you not think that a
bath would refresh me?"

"Certainly. But you must wrap yourself up well before you go out into
the hall-way. You must not expose yourself to cold."

"Hall-way? Why, Doctor, as you well know, everything is done by
machinery here. It is not for me to go to the bath; the bath will come
to me. Just look!" and he pressed a button. After a few seconds a faint
rumbling was heard, which grew louder and louder. Suddenly the door
opened, and the tub appeared.

Such, for this year of grace 2889, is the history of one day in the life
of the editor of the Earth Chronicle. And the history of that one day
is the history of 365 days every year, except leap-years, and then of
366 days--for as yet no means has been found of increasing the length of