The Finest Life 



ment with the telephone, of the electrophone, by 

 which subscribers can hear concerts, sermons, 

 speeches, or lectures. Later when we can see by 

 wire — and it will soon come — we shall enjoy the 

 society of friends or see theatres, processions, 

 and races without leaving the farm fireside, and 

 if there is not a bioscope theatre in every village 

 the telephone user will be laid on to one in the 

 nearest town. These things — and more — are the 

 promise of science for rural dwellers. 



The farmer of the future will be well educated, 

 thoroughly in touch with affairs, supplied with 

 papers and magazines, a member of political or 

 co-operative societies, a close follower of trials 

 and experiments, whilst the extending use of 

 machinery will convert him willy-nilly into an 

 engineer. 



Concurrently with this development of the 

 countryside there will be an influx of people 

 from the cities, who have been deterred from 

 the health of the open by the desolation of a 

 country winter for the womenkind, and rural 

 districts will receive a social impetus. Even now 

 people are buying for a mere song beautiful old 

 farmhouses, and rendering them sanitary and 

 habitable according to modern ideas. They are 

 absurdly cheap, for the working farmer does not 

 want large rooms; he lives in the kitchen as a 



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