two wheels and a saddle. The curator
says they were much used in olden times, though how people
balanced on them, goodness knows! Not half so convenient as our
modern wings! Another interesting exhibit was a collection of
clothing of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; coats,
cloaks and dresses actually made of such rare materials as
cloth, silk, cotton and velvet. It makes one gasp. How beautiful
they must have looked--but oh! how insanitary! How different to
our modern pulp clothing that is burnt (by law) every week. I am
told some of the things used to be sent to a place called a
laundry, and washed all together. No wonder germs were spread in
those days! It is a marvel they did not all die off from
infectious diseases. There were also some fine specimens of
dishes upon which food used to be served, interesting as
survivals of an old custom, but amazing to us, who live on
concentrated tabloids. The time those ancients wasted over meals
must have been stupendous! Some old school books also made me
smile. Oh, the poor children of those days! Fancy them sitting
at desks and trying their eyes over that wretched small print.
Now, when all the teaching is by cinema and gramophone, we
realize what a purgatory education must have been in the past. I
am very thankful to be living in A.D. 4000, with all our modern
advantages. Think of having to go by sea to visit your friends
in America, when to-day we simply get out the balloon and whisk
over to pay a call. My new electric shoes have just come, and I
expect will be a tremendous aid to my dancing. I shall wear them
at my birthday-party. By the by, I must send a wireless to
Connie, to ask if she means to come to my party. She mentioned
yesterday that she was flying to China, but perhaps she will be
back in time. Dad has promised me a new best glass-sided diving
boat for a present, so I hope to do a little ocean exploring
this summer. I hear the scenery at the bottom of the Pacific is
most beautiful--far finer than the Atlantic, which everybody
knows now. Well, I must go and start my gramophone, or I shan't
know my Japanese lesson for to-morrow. Professor Okuto is the
limit if one slacks. Good-bye, dear little diary. I'll type some
more in you another day.

The girls giggled.

"You've gone ahead rather far," commented Audrey. "It