So the seventh planet he visited was the Earth.

The Earth is not just any old planet. Its inhabitants number one-hundred-and-eleven kings (not forgetting, of course, the Negro kings), seven thousand geographers, nine hundred thousand businessmen, seven-and-a-half million drunks, three-hundred-and-eleven million conceited men... In other words, approximately two billion grown-ups.

To give you an idea of the size of the Earth, I can tell you that before the invention of electricity it was necessary to maintain, over the whole of the six continents, a veritable army of four-hundred-and-sixty-two thousand five-hundred-and-eleven lamplighters.

Seen from not so high up, the effect was very splendid. The movements of this army were regulated like the ballet in an opera. First came the turn of the lamplighters of New Zealand and Australia. Having lit their lanterns, they would then go off to sleep. Next in the dance, the lamplighters of China and Siberia entered on cue. Then they too were conjured off into the wings. Then came the turn of the lamplighters of Russia and the Indies. Then those of Africa and Europe. Then those of South America. Then those of North America. And never did they mistake their order of appearance on stage. It was an imposing spectacle.

Only the man in charge of the single street lamp on the North Pole, and his colleague in charge of the single street lamp on the South Pole, used to lead lives of careless indolence: these two went to work only twice a year.