had burned and kept its shape. He was looking at me quietly, but
with no particular surprise or interest.

"Quick," I said, eager to begin; "where am I? Who are you? What
year is this; is it the year 3000, or what is it?"

He drew in his breath with a look of annoyance on his face.

"What a queer, excited way you have of speaking," he said.

"Tell me," I said again, "is this the year 3000?"

"I think I know what you mean," he said; "but really I haven't the
faintest idea. I should think it must be at least that, within a
hundred years or so; but nobody has kept track of them for so long,
it's hard to say."

"Don't you keep track of them any more?" I gasped.

"We used to," said the man. "I myself can remember that a century
or two ago there were still a number of people who used to try to
keep track of the year, but it died out along with so many other
faddish things of that kind. Why," he continued, showing for the
first time a sort of animation in his talk, "what was the use of it?
You see, after we eliminated death----"

"Eliminated death!" I cried, sitting upright. "Good God!"

"What was that expression you used?" queried the man.