ine the deep with missiles of
death, while photography turns one inside out, and doctors no longer
guess at the location of a bullet. All these things have come to pass
within my life-time. What may the young before me expect in the next
fifty years?

Recently I read an imaginary letter, supposed to have been written by
a Wellsley College girl. It was dated one hundred years in the future.
She wrote:

"Father gave me a new airship a few weeks ago. I leave my home in
Baltimore every morning after breakfast and reach Wellsley in time for
classes. We have only thirty minutes in school in the morning and
fifteen in the afternoon. Our teachers are in telepathic touch with
all knowledge and we get it in condensed form. A few days ago, just
after lunch at noon I took a spin up into Canada; the machine got a
little out of fix, so I jumped on a gyroscope and returned in time for
dinner at six.

"Yesterday I sailed over to New York City and took dinner at the
Waldorf-Astoria; had two capsules for dinner and they were delicious.
I read how the people used to sit around tables and eat all kinds of
things. It must have been funny to see their mouths all going at one
time. Then they had stomach trouble--indigestion they called it. Now
we have everything necessary for the human system put up in capsules;
we get up a thousand feet above the earth where the air is pure, so we
ought to live to be two hundred years old.

"Last week my classmate and I took a flying trip to see the Panama
Canal, and while there we decided to take in the Exposition at San
Francisco next day. There we saw many antiquated machines called
automobiles; they used to run around the streets in rubber stockings,
honking horns to warn the poor, then turning turtle they killed or
maimed the rich. In one department we saw an animal with long tail,
and a mane on its neck. They called it a horse and told us that years
ago horses were harnessed and driven about the streets, while the fast
ones were raced for money."

That young woman may be all right about her capsule dinners and
condensed instruction, but one hundred years from now, when on her way
from the west to Wellsley if she will stop in Lexington, Ky., she will
see a horse sale in progress; horses selling from five hundred to ten
thousand dollars that will trot or pace a mile in less than two
minutes, while slow ones will be hitched to dead wagons, used to
gather up those who have fallen from airships and g