"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." We stopped long enough to see some trains go by; the express at an incredible speed, yet only buzzing softly; and the fast freight; cars seemingly of aluminum, like a string of silver beads. "We use aluminum for almost everything. You know it was only a question of power--the stuff is endless," Owen explained. And all the time, on the outside tracks, which had a side track at every station, he told me, ran single coaches or short trains, both passenger and freight, at a comfortable speed. "All kinds of regular short-distance traffic runs this way. It's a great convenience. But the regular highroads are the best. Have you noticed?" I had seen from the air-motor how broad and fine they looked, but told him I had made no special study of them. "Come on--while we're about it," he said; and called a little car. We ran up the hills to Old Broadway, and along its shaded reaches for quite a distance. It was broad, indeed. The center track, smooth, firm, and dustless, was for swift traffic of any sort, and well used. As the freight wagons were beautiful to look at and clean, they were not excluded, and the perfect road was strong enough for any load. There were rows of trees on either side, showing a good growth, though young yet; then a narrower roadway for slower vehicles, on either side a second row of trees, the footpaths, and the outside trees. "These are only about twenty-five years old. Don't you think they are doing well?" "They are a credit to the National Bureau of Highways and Arboriculture that I see you are going to tell me about." "You _are_ getting wise," Owen answered, with a smile. "Yes--that's what does it. And it furnishes employment, I can tell you. In the early morning these roads are alive with caretakers. Of course the bulk of the work is done by running machines; but there is a lot of pruning and trimming and fighting with insects. Among our richest victories in that line is the extermination of the gipsy moth--brown tail--elm beetle and the rest." "How on earth did you do that?" "Found the natural devourer--as we did with the scale pest. Also by raising birds instead of killing them; and by swift and thorough work in the proper season. We gave our minds to it, you see, at last." The outside path was a delightful one, wide, smooth, soft to the foot, agreeable in color. "What do you make your sidewalk of?" I asked. Owen tapped it with his foot. "It's a kind of semi-flexible concrete--wears well, too. And we color it to suit ourselves, you see. There was no real reason why a path should be ugly to look at."