In all, the city would be the envy even of a European power. Other races and regions can only aspire to a metropolis so indicative of the very forces of progress --- the Asiatic may have his Tokyo, the Latin his Saõ Paulo, the African his Capetown -- but not even the most prosperous colonial economy can match the glory that is Philadelphia.
Consider now this jewel of the Schuylkill. Our view dives past the buzzing wireless towers, the gleaming underslung carriages traveling the cables and viaducts of the skyways, down among the red brick colonial residences and Greek revival temples of commerce, to skim along the cobbled streets amid towering elms and the rushing feet of newsboys shouting out the latest headlines of the hour.
Imagine that we travel with one of the new reductive kineopticons, the small machine's pressure tanks hissing as it follows its punchtaped program and records all before from a dog's eye view. Our vision would be rushed, the peripheries blurred and sliding kaleidoscopically as the streets unroll before our line of travel, until shadow overtakes us with the suddenness of a mugger's cosh behind the ear and we pass through a corroded brass gate to tumble in splashing darkness amid the groaning of pipes and the rumbling of boilers, finally to fetch up at the rubber booted feet of an acid-scarred wretch known only as the Gollinoster.