curiously at the figures in the cases.

"By Jove!'' I said looking at one figure in blue clothes with a belt
and baton, "that's a policeman!"

"Really," said my new acquaintance, "is _that_ what a _policeman_
was? I've often wondered. What used they to be used for?"

"Used for?" I repeated in perplexity. "Why, they stood at the
corner of the street."

"Ah, yes, I see," he said, "so as to shoot at the people. You must
excuse my ignorance," he continued, "as to some of your social
customs in the past. When I took my education I was operated upon
for social history, but the stuff they used was very inferior."

I didn't in the least understand what the man meant, but had no time
to question him, for at that moment we came out upon the street, and
I stood riveted in astonishment.

Broadway! Was it possible? The change was absolutely appalling!
In place of the roaring thoroughfare that I had known, this silent,
moss-grown desolation. Great buildings fallen into ruin through
the sheer stress of centuries of wind and weather, the sides of
them coated over with a growth of fungus and moss! The place was
soundless. Not a vehicle moved. There were no wires overhead--no
sound of life or movement except, here and there, there passed
slowly to and fro human figures dressed in the same asbestos
clothes as my acquaintance, with the same hairless faces, and the
same look of infinite age upon them.