Hand in hand, a dark-eyed lad and a fair-haired lassie approached, saluted, and simultaneously asked in voices perfectly attuned, “Guides for the city?” Urban instincts immediately awakened and asked, “How far is it, and how much—by the hour?” Again, gracefully and respectfully saluting, they replied, “This is the Center; the Fields are to the right and left; our services are paid by the government.” Slightly disconcerted at such unexpected hospitality, but also convinced that our reputation as workers for the elevation of mankind had preceded us, and rather self-exalted thereby, we said, affably enough; “Very well; let the young lady show us about.” With an indulgent smile, they explained, “We always help each other.” (“Born twins likely,” being our mental comment.) “These buildings near the Depot, for the convenience of producers and consumers, are the Supply Stations, whence are shipped the government products from fields and factories. “Producers are supplied at cost, non-producers at a small advance. The general Store-houses are farther down this, the Poplar Valley, but also on the line of public travel. “The Mother-fields are to the right, in the Maple-valley, while the Father-fields fill the Elm-valley, to the left. “Yonder, where the hill-side appears checked with different tints, are the Schools of Natural History.” “Schools?” we interrupted, quite prepared to exploit the superiority of certain educational institutions farther east, in the organization and regulation of which we had offered several valuable suggestions: “How many schools have you?” “They vary according to our needs; one for every ten students, from four to twenty years of age.” We neglected to dilate upon the immense advantages of our systems. We may have been intoxicated by the invigorating atmosphere, the beautiful scene, or the chanting and enchanting guides. We did, however, venture to ask, deprecatingly, “Do you study only Natural History?” With a merry laugh, they answered, “Indeed! That is much, we think: To learn of the birth, growth, development and decay of Nature’s products, from the tiniest manifestation of life—animal, vegetable and mineral—to man’s perfect evolution, from this physical form into spirituality. “We, children, learn only the rudiments of each change, the Scientists and Philosophers make it their life work.” “And live and die poor, here as elsewhere?” we facetiously suggested. “Indeed, no!” they answered again, with a merry peal of laughter at so dire a possibility. “We have no ‘poor’ as you call them. The government is the friend of everyone.” With a skeptical sniff, and a suspicion that we were in the heart of one of those “Ideal communities,” of whose birth, growth and early collapse we had read, we asked: “Where are the other schools, or are those enough for your population?”