Mike's mind roamed into the future. Cambridge first, and then an open-air life of the sort he had always dreamed of. The Problem of Life seemed to him to be solved. He looked on down the years, and he could see no troubles there of any kind whatsoever. Reason suggested that there were probably one or two knocking about somewhere, but this was no time to think of them.
(From the last page of Psmith in the City, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse. This is a very ironic passage, written as it was in 1910. Little did any of them know at that time that a mere four years later the world would be held in the grip of World War I.)
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