In the center of the crossroads was an attractive pavilion with awnings all around it, and with dainty little umbrella tables outside. Many people were sitting around the tables with refreshments. Xora led me to a vacant one where a courteous attendant seated us and gave us a menu with a list of all kinds of ice creams, drinks, fruits, cakes, and dainty candies. My companion gave the order, after translating the menu for me. Everyone enjoyed these simple refreshments in a happy orderly manner. No barkeepers, with their noisy customers guzzling alcoholic drinks, no disgusting drunkards, no promiscuous petting, no attempt at pick-ups, no vulgarity, and no high class "Cafe Society." In a very comfortable corner spot, there were about five vacant tables decorated with pennants on top of the umbrella poles. I asked Xora why these tables were vacant. She said they were reserved for the over-aged and high ranking members and their immediate families. So were the best seats in all public assemblies. Others had to take seats according to their rank and grade degree. Her family had to take balcony seats, because neither of her parents had as yet reached higher than the fifth grade. Bowls of beautiful fresh, conserved, and dried fruits and nuts of many varieties were placed on our table. Xora said they were not the best of their kind. The choicest food from the commissary and the best articles from the general stores were first allotted to the crippled, the disabled, the sick, the aged, and the high ranking members and their families. Momentarily forgetting what her grandfather had told me, I reached into my pocket for some gold pieces to pay for the refreshments. She started to laugh and said there was no payment. "In that event," I said, "I can sit here all day and gorge these, and go to other pavilions when the supply here is low." "You can do that," she said, "but you will soon become satiated and you will not take advantage of such privilege. It's only the small children who are tempted to partake of more than is good for them. They are not served without their parents, and they are taught restraint. These pavilions are at every crossing and are supplied continually by one of the four adjoining communities for a week each in their turn. Each community tries to outdo the other in quality and service, so as to attract more guests. Pavilions and benches on all our streets contribute a great deal to our social intermingling, especially during the afternoon teas." "To whom are all these refreshments charged? There must be an enormous supply consumed daily." "They are charged against the account of public supply," she answered. "Is there no payment for anything you get here?" "No! It certainly looks very droll to us when we observe your payments, your nuisance taxes and all other taxes and licenses you impose on your citizens.