plete combustion of matter, or the disintegration of matter. You can call it what you please."
"I'm in favour of 'combustion'!" said Mr. Bondy. "It sounds more familiar."
"But 'disintegration' is more exact—to break up the atoms into electrons, and harness the electrons and make them work. Do you understand that?"
"Perfectly," Bondy assured him. "The point is to harness them!"
"Well, imagine, say, that there are two horses at the ends of a rope, pulling with all their might in opposite directions. Do you know what you have then?"
"Some kind of sport, I suppose," suggested Mr. Bondy.
"No, a state of repose. The horses pull, but they stay where they are. And if you were to cut the rope"
"—The horses would fall over," cried G. H. Bondy, with a flash of inspiration.
"No, but they would start running; they would become energy released. Now, pay attention. Matter is a team in that very position. Cut the bonds that hold its electrons together, and they will . . ."
"Run loose!"
"Yes, but we can catch and harness them, don't you see? Or put it to yourself this way: we burn a piece of coal, say, to produce heat. We do get a
