One of the guards then began to detail the offense of the prisoner. The recital had but just begun when the man became greatly excited and began screaming once more. The sergeant placed his hand in a kindly way upon his shoulder and gently forced him into a chair. The man grew quiet again and listened to the guard relate the story of the arrest without interruption. When the officer had finished the man arose and, walking up to the sergeant, said:

"Don't harm me, I didn't put all those bottles there. I'll tell you how it was. Somebody has stuck those bottles on that post and covered them up with a white cloth. When they raised the cloth the bottles turned to fire. I am not to blame. I don't know how those bottles came there. There are millions of them. They were all right at first, but the devils poured red fire into them. Don't hurt me. I had nothing to do with it."

The sergeant talked kindly to the man, and when he was quieted led him to the hospital, where a doctor attended to him. Here he entered into a long description of the pillar of "bottles," by which he evidently meant the incandescent globes. The doctor gave his patient a quieting potion, and in a short time he fell into a sleep. When he awoke from his sleep he was quiet, but his mind still dwelt on the pillar of "bottles," and he insisted on repeating his version of the affair to all the doctors. In the evening a carriage took the patient away, supposedly to the detention hospital.



CHAPTER VII

ON BOARD THE "ILLINOIS"

"Now for the battleship," said Johnny, "that's what I want to see." As they came on board the brick ship, the first words they heard were quite nautical.

"It's eight bells."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The bos'un, or whoever it was that received the order from the Lieutenant, climbed up and tapped out eight strokes on the big brass bell. About twenty people, with lunch baskets and camp-chairs, ran after him and watched the performance.

"What's that for?" asked a young woman.

"That tells the time of day," answered her escort.

"But it's after 12 o'clock by my watch and he struck it only eight times."

"Well, they—ah—they have a system of their own. It's very complicated."

"Look at that crooked thing there," said one of the visitors, pointing to the air-tube leading to the stoker. "Is that their foghorn I've heerd about?"

"They don't need no foghorns on warships. I jedge it's a shootin'-iron of some kind or other, maybe a gattlin' gun what jest blows the shot out. You see it's pointin' out like at an enemy."

An elderly woman stepped up to the Lieutenant and said: "I'd like mighty well to see some of the Gatling guns."

"Yes, ma'am, you will find them at the foretop."

"How's that?"

"At the turret in the fore-top."



"Do you mean up in the little round cupola?"

"Cupola, great heavens," murmured the officer under his breath. Then he called a marine and had him show the woman to the fore-top. It is the experience of a lifetime for a naval officer who has cruised in the Mediterranean and rocked over the high waves of the south Atlantic to be placed in command of a brick battleship, which rests peacefully alongside a little pier and is boarded by hundreds of reckless sight-seers every day. The conning towers are of sheet-iron and some of the formidable guns are simply painted wood. It is said that if anything larger than a six-inch gun should be fired from the deck of the mimic battleship the recoil would upset the masonry and jolt the whole structure into a shapeless mass.

Below the water line the Illinois is a hollow mockery, but the two decks, the turrets and the heavy battery are made so realistic that any one who had not seen the brick laid and the plating put on might suppose it was a real war vessel that had stranded well in toward the beach. As a matter of fact, about one-third of the visitors are deceived, which fact may be vouched for by any one of the marines parading the deck. A man who looked as though he read the newspapers, called a sergeant of marines "Cap," and remarked that it was a very fine vessel.

"Yes, indeed, sir," replied the sergeant.

"She'll be here all summer, will she?"

"Oh, yes."

"Did this boat take part in the review at New York?"

"No, sir; this battleship is stuck fast here. It is a shell of brick, built up from a stone foundation, and is intended to represent a model battleship."

"You don't tell me. Made of brick, eh?" Uncle, listening to the talk, shared the countryman's disgust.

"There, Fanny, how do you excuse them for that piece of mockery? Everybody getting fooled as if they were in a cheap dime show. It's too bad the government should be a partner to sich deceptions. And then just hear them fellows making fun o' the likes o' us. It's a shame. Of course we hev to ask questions when they use all the art in the world to make deceiving things and then make fun if they do such good work as to fool us. We don't know any more about their work than they do about our farm. I guess they couldn't tell a Jersey from a short-horn, nor a header from a clover-huller."

One of the sailors was telling of the questions asked by the public. Some person asked him if the gulls flying around the ship were sea-gulls, and whether they had been brought on especially for the Fair. Another asked why the guns were plugged up at the end with pieces of wood. A marine said the plugs of wood made them air-tight, so that they wouldn't sink if they fell overboard. Maybe the man believed it. He didn't say anything.

From sight-seeing at the ship they came over to the Fisheries building.

The throng of visitors here at first detracted their sight from the wall of fish and wonders of the sea around them.

"Oh," said Aunt when she looked about, "I nearly have to gasp to make sure I'm not at the bottom of the sea. Just look at them fish swimming around on both sides of you."

"Well I feel sorry for these poor fish, they look so tired," said Fanny, "but it's very evident they can't keep lively all the time."

One of the big scaly-backed tarpons in the fountain was fanning his tail and moving slowly through the water. On the railing at the edge of the pool sat a tired man with a baby hanging over his arm. If the tarpon had stuck his nose out of the water he could have grabbed the man by the coat-tail and pulled him backward. The mother was standing a few feet away. She turned around and saw two beady eyes shining up through the water.

"Hold tight to that child," she said. "If you ever drop him that big pike would gobble him right up."

"He don't eat babies," replied the husband, calmly. "Besides, it ain't a pike; it's a sturgeon."

"Well, he looks awful mean, anyway." The husband, merely to reassure her, moved a few feet further along and let the baby lie over his shoulder and watch the little fish chase one another. The aisles were crowded full of people, who had found that a visit to the east end of the Fisheries building was almost as good as a dive to the bottom of the ocean.

It is in this place where you may stand with coral reefs and ring-tailed shells on either side and watch strange fish with spikes on their backs open their mouths and gape until each one looks like the letter O. The sea turtles stand on their heads and wave yellow flippers at the wide-eyed crowd, and a devil crab makes all the women shiver and pull the children away from the glass. In one aquarium there are so many catfish that they make the water cloudy.

In front of one of the cases there was a learned discussion. The label simply said "Anemone." On the rocks and shells were some things shaped like stars and mushrooms, except that they were moss-colored and had whiskers floating out in the water. "Annymone, what the dickens are they?" asked a man with a linen duster.

"Some kind of sea-weed, I believe," said an elderly gentleman in a patronizing manner.

"No, they ain't they're animals, broke in a third.

"But, sir, they are stuck fast there and can't move," said the elderly gentleman.

"I know that but they reach out with those whiskers and grab stuff and feed themselves that way."

"Well, that's the first time I ever heard of anything feedin' itself with its whiskers."

One of the young women looked at the sheepshead aquarium and murmured: "What long bills they have." Her escort smiled in a knowing way and said: "That is not a bill; that is a proboscis, I believe. I wish I had a hook and line."

A Columbian guard said he was tired of hearing the same old jokes, for nearly every young man who came in with a girl said: "When I come back here I'll bring a hook and line."

They finished the day here, and wearied with the noise and tumult of the streets were glad to find rest in their rooms when evening came.



The sweetness of this rural family was nowhere better to be seen than when they were resting at home in the evening after the fatiguing experiences of the day.

"Grandpa," said Fanny, when they were comfortably at rest, "I can't help but get angry at the women as I walk about, for I do see them do so much foolishness. Why, to-day I saw one crazy for souvenirs, and I believe she thought everything was a souvenir. I saw her pick up a nail and put it into her handbag, and when she came up to the Pennsylvania coal monument in the Mining building, she commenced putting pieces of the coal in her pocket. Then one of the working men played really a mean joke on her. He came up with a lump as big as a water bucket. Then he asked her if she wouldn't like to have that to remember the Fair by. And what do you think, she just said she thought he was very kind, but she didn't believe she could take it, for it was so big. But she would like awfully to have it. I saw the man shut one eye and say to the other man that the woman was crazy, because it was just the same kind of coal that she put into the stove every day at home."

"Now the only thing I've got to grumble about," said Uncle, "is what's models and what's facts. There is no use of scaring people to death with things that ain't so. Now over in the Government building I saw some hop plant lice that was not less than a foot long; there was a potato bug nine inches long, and there was a chinch bug two feet long, for I out with my rule and measured it. When I seen them I said, the Lord help the people who live where them things do, and then some city folks laughed at me, when at last Fanny came along and said they was models. Then we went into another room and there was soldiers from everywhere and army things that made me believe I was back again with Sherman, but there again they were wax, excepting the wagons and guns. I went up to one of the officers when I fust come in and I says, says I, "Are you regular army folks or Illinois militia?" and he didn't answer, and I turned to one of the privates and I asked why there was so many of them bunched together, then I seed some folks a laughing at me and I slunk away. I say the government is in poor business when it makes sport of its own defenders."



"Over there in the Transportation building I seen what it said was the boat Columbus sailed in; but after all, Fanny said it was a model. Right close to it was the boat what Grace Darling rowed out into the storming sea and saved so many lives. I thought it was a model, but Fanny said it was the very boat she used. I jest thought ef that was really the boat, we could all be sure that Grace Darling didn't stand o' Sunday mornins afore the glass a paintin' and a powderin'." He was getting himself worked up to the belief that he was a very much abused old soldier, when Fanny said:

"Grandpa, I have just cut a splendid piece of poetry out of the paper about the Fair. The man who wrote it don't live far from us, for his address says at the bottom, 'Mr. Matthews, from Effingham County,' and I'm going to keep it in my scrap-book. Let me read it to you:

The City of the Workers of the World

THE BUILDING OF IT

In a wilderness of wonders they are piling up the stores Gathered by the hands of labor on a hundred happy shores; In a palpitating plexus of white palaces they heap The marvels of the earth and air—the treasures of the deep; They have reached their restless fingers in the pockets of the past, And robbed the sleeping miser of the wealth he had amassed— To the festival of nations—to the tournament of toil, They have garnered in the offerings of every sun and soil; They have levied on the genius of the age, and it replies Full handed, with the blessed light of heaven in its eyes; In honor of old Spain they have taxed the brawn and brain Of a planet, for the glory of that Master of the Main, Whose fortitude is written on each flag that is unfurled Above the great white city of the world.

THE MEETING OF THE NATIONS

They are climbing over mountains, they are sailing over seas, From the artics, from the tropics, from the dim antipodes; In the steamship, in the warship, under banners loved the best, They are laughing up the waters from the east and from the west: From the courts of Andalusia, from the castles of the Rhone, To the meeting of the brotherhood of nations they are blown; From the kraals beside the Congo, from the harems of the Nile, They are thronging to the occident in never-ending file; From the farthest crags of Asia, from the continents of snow, The long-converging rivers of mankind begin to flow; In the twilight of the century, its wars forever past, The nations of the universe are clasping hands at last By Columbia's inland waters, where in beauty lies impearled The imperial white city of the workers of the world.

THE PASSING OF THE PAGEANT

When the roses of the summer burn to ashes in the sun, When the feast of love is finished, and the heart is overrun; When the hungry soul is sated and the tongue at last denies Expression to the wonders that are wearing out the eyes, Then the splendor it will wane like a dream that haunts the brain, Or the swift dissolving beauty of the bow above the rain; And the summer domes of pleasure that bubble up the sky Will tumble into legends in the twinkling of an eye; But the art of man endureth, and the heart of man will glow With reanimated ardor as the ages come and go. The pageants of the present are but pledges of a time When strifes shall be forgotten in a cycle more sublime When the fancies of the future into golden wreaths are curled O'er the dim, remembered city of the workers of the world.



CHAPTER VIII

LA RABIDA

It was a warm summer day, and rolling chairs, launches and gondolas were in great demand. At Fanny's suggestion they decided to take an electric launch and go around to La Rabida, where the relics of Columbus were kept. She accosted one of the guards who attends to the moorings by asking how near the launch would take them to La Rabida.

"La-Ra-La what? I don't think I know what that is," said the guide.

"La Rabida is the convent—the Columbus relics are there. Columbus was the man who discovered America," Aunt volunteered to tell him.

"Oh, yes; I have heard of Columbus, of course, but I haven't been here very long."

"Well, the convent is over at the lake end of the Agricultural building. Do the launches go there?"

"The Agricultural building? Let me see; that is over——"

"Do you know where the colonnade is?"

"No. I don't."

"Ever hear of the grand basin, the gold statue, the lagoon?"

"Oh, yes; this is the lagoon."

"Well, how long will it be before a launch will come along?"



He went out to the edge of the landing and looked up the lagoon. Then he jerked out, "in three-quarters of a minute." He was provoked about something. It may have been because she wanted to know so much; it may have been for a latent discovery of a lack of knowledge on his part, or it may have been because Fanny had been laughing at something; Fanny laughs easily. She is just as likely to laugh where she ought to cry; the electric guard didn't see anything to laugh at. They sat down on a pile of lumber to wait the three-quarters of a minute. It was three-quarters, and several more. The guard said the warm weather had come unexpectedly. They would have the whole fifty-two launches running soon. But only about half the number had been necessary until now, and they were very busy and could not keep up the time. One came soon after that. As they were stepping in Fanny asked how much the round trips were. Some one said "25 cents in the Director General's schedule, but in the launches they are 50 cents." The captain, or the man who takes the money, heard him. He smiled, and charged them 25 cents apiece to La Rabida. Just afterward a man handed him $1 and said "Administration building—for two." The Administration building is considerably this side of La Rabida. The captain slipped the dollar into his pocket and passed on to the next. The woman said:

"Did he keep the whole of it?"

"Keep it? I should think he did. You don't get much back on these side experiences. I ought to have asked him how much it costs to go all the way."

But the man made no reply. He was meditating. He evidently had not read the morning papers. They gave all the prices—admissions and extra convenience.

It was with feelings of considerable curiosity, mingled with awe, that they approached La Rabida.

Before them was the strange old building which they knew was the convent where Columbus had received such rest, comfort and inspiration in his great enterprise that opened the door to modern civilization.

A number of tents were on the south of the house, and soldiers were to be seen standing about, with their heavy muskets, which mean nothing but that their lives are pledged to protect this collection, belonging to the Vatican and the descendants of Columbus. All the royal letters patent from the sovereigns of Spain to Columbus and many letters written by Columbus himself, are in the cases. His will is also there. The signature of Columbus is written in this way:

S. S. A. S. X. N. Y. Xpo Ferens.

At one end of this room is the collection of pictures loaned from the Vatican by Pope Leo. No one is allowed to go up the steps. One of the Columbian guards standing there said, in answer to one of Uncle's questions:

"This is the altar. It is sacred and no one is allowed up there, because these pictures are very valuable and very small."

The mention of the size in that connection meant that they could be carried off easily. But nothing could be carried off easily with those watchful "regulars" about. A contract was made by Spain with the United States before the collection left there that it should be guarded by a detachment of United States soldiers. That contract is fulfilled to the letter. No one is allowed even to touch the glasses of the case.

There are some wonderful pictures on the wall of Musaico Filato, which belong to Pope Leo. They are wonderfully beautiful as pictures, without thought of the thousands of tiny mosaics used in making the pictures, and that each one was placed in by hand. Some of the other pictures are wonderful, too—wonderful in their hideousness. No two artists seem to have the same idea of the features of Columbus. There seemed to be but one thing that they agreed upon fully, and that was that Columbus wore his hair chopped off on his neck. There is a great likeness there. Ferdinand and Isabella looked painfully disturbed on being trotted out at this World's Fair, and just exactly as if they never could have agreed on allowing Columbus or any one else to discover us. Some of the pictures were not numbered, and some of them had two numbers. The young lady who sold catalogues said they would be all right after a while.

"Say, can you tell me—is these 'ere things all Columbus' works—did 'e do 'em all?" asked Uncle.

"No, it is the history of his life."

"Didn't he do any of 'em?"

When the young lady shook her head, Uncle walked away, disappointed. He knew just what it was to dig and toll down on his farm, and he could gauge greatness only by labor. And if Columbus did not do any of it, paint any of the pictures, or build the convent, he could not understand what had made them go to so much expense to build the old convent when a good picture for a few dollars would serve just as well.

After going through the narrow entrance of La Rabida they found little dark rooms with pictures and maps and charts of Columbus and Isabel in many different forms. In the southwest room they found a table and doors and bricks and the key from the house of Columbus. In the case among the many sacred relics was a locket said to contain some of the dust of that great man. They saw the Lotto portrait which was used on the souvenir half dollars. There were the Indian idols which Columbus brought to Isabel, one of the canoes in which the Indians came out to meet him, and even one of the bolts to which Columbus was chained. Each one of the party were continually discovering the most wonderful things. Fanny found an autograph letter of the great Cortez and she wrote in her note book from the book of Waltzeemuller where he said, "Americus has discovered a fourth part more of the world and Europe and Asia are named for women this country ought to be called America or land of Americus because he has an acute intellect."

While she was writing this an old gentleman came up to her and said, "Say, Miss, I want to see the remains of Columbus, I heard they are here with a soldier on each side of his body."

Fanny pointed to the place where the locket was but he was disappointed and did not care to go "just to see a pinch of dust in a locket."

Aunt was sitting on her camp stool in the room where the table of Columbus was, but to get a nearer view of something she left it for a moment. Just then a family of man and wife with five children came in and found that they were standing at the table and by the door of Columbus. The woman saw the chair and supposing it to be a part of the Columbus furniture sat down in it. Then she arose and called her husband. "Henry come here and set in this chair. Thank God I've set where Columbus set." The husband sat in it awhile and then each one of the children time about, while Aunt Sarah waited patiently for them to get through, not wanting to break the pleasure of their great achievement.



Tired of further sight seeing, our family decided to leave the grounds, and started on their homeward journey with over two hours ahead of them. There was no use walking through streets when they could pass nearly the whole distance through buildings. This was one of the ways to economize on travel and time.

Across the bridge from La Rabida was the great archway entrance of the Agricultural hall. Around the old convent with its low-browed walls ran a width of fresh dirt at intervals over which were stuck the ancient signs, "Keep off the grass," but no grass was yet visible.

"That's what I don't like about this White City. So much of it is so, and so much of it ain't so that I never can tell what is so," said Uncle.

In the Agricultural hall there were never ending wonders for the farmer. All the agricultural ingenuity of the earth was centered here.

"Now, come on, father, we can see plows and lawn mowers when we get home."

But Uncle lingered longingly over a new device for lacerating the soil and destroying its noxious productions. Uncle and Aunt had ceased their usual exclamations after the first two or three days. In the first place exclamations, such as the good deacon would use, were entirely inadequate, and in the second place the cords of utterance had become exhausted.

"Well, ef they haint gone and got some dog fennel here. I wonder where the cuckle-burrs are, and the tick-seed, and the jimson weeds and the puff-balls. It's a mean discrimination to bring one of the nuisances without bringing them all."

They went through and out over the bridge of the south canal, on past the bandstand to the Administration building.

"What inspiring music," said Fanny. "It is hard to tell whether our eyes or our ears can bring us the most joy. Surely I can live to be a better woman now every day of my life."

As they entered the Administration building they saw a man in the center of the court looking up through the building at the great dome which seemed to pierce the sky. He leaned farther and farther back until he fell backwards and lay there on his back still gazing intently upward. A number of people rushed up to him horror stricken, as if he had just fallen from the top of the dome and they expected to see him a crushed mass. As they began to close up around him he yelled out: "O you get away you fool people, you don't know what a fine view I'm a getting of the top."



But one of the Columbian guards seemed to think that was not the legal way to view the dizzy heights of the building and forthwith jerked him to his feet and ushered him to the outside. The last seen of the man he was muttering, "Them fool builders put them picters clear up at the top and then the fool guards wont let a fellow enjoy them."

He evidently believed he had been treated outrageously in a free country by an autocratic guard, and that his fifty cents entrance fee entitled him to view any object in any position of vantage.

They went on into the Mines building where the sparkling ores of a thousand mines were in piles and pyramids or wrought into colonnades, facades and burnished domes. There were dazzling diamonds and beautiful opals, emeralds and gems from all parts of the earth; Michigan's copper globe, North Carolina's pavilion of mica designs, Montana's famous Rehan statue of solid silver resting on a plinth of gold, Arizona's old Spanish arastra and New Mexico's mining cabin.

From a northwest doorway they passed on out of this world of subterranean wonders across the street into the Transportation building.

"I don't believe these things are used anywhere," said Johnny. "They're like the four-legged woman—just made for show. Father, you can't expect me to ride in no common farm wagon after bringin' me to see this."

"These cars do represent awful improvement in three generations," said Uncle. "Now, it is supposed that when I was a boy I rode in that 'Flyer' there, or on the one they call 'Rocket;' but I didn't, 'cause I never seed a train till I was past twenty. Fanny would be supposed to ride up there in that gay three-story palace on wheels, and Johnny will get to ride a hundred and fifty miles an hour on that 'lectric railroad; but a common cattle car is fast enough for me. I don't know what the world's a comin' to when people rides a hundred and fifty miles an hour and choose to sleep fourteen stories high."

They had wandered around the locomotive section, and on their way curiously viewed the famous "John Bull," the oldest locomotive in America. Near by some workingmen throwing a pile of dirt into a cart, caught Uncle's eye.

"Well, look at them fellers. Ef my farm hands was to work that way I'd not get enough corn to feed my Jerseys a month."



He was quite disgusted with their slow and listless movements. They returned down another aisle and came out in front of the magnificent doorway of the building. They were just behind two elegantly dressed ladies, who were looking up at the decorations.

"Well, upon me wohd, do obswerve that dohway. How intwesting. I am shuah it seems to me to be pewfectly supub. It is so lovie, so sreet."

"O Grandpa," said Johnny, "do tell me what language they are talking."

"I don't know, Johnny; ask Fanny."

John's attention was here caught by the loud arguments of some gondoliers at the landing near by, and he ran down to see the fight he was sanguine enough to believe was about to take place.

They made noise enough to be sure but perhaps this was their way of attracting attention. There were at least a dozen excited foreigners gesticulating over some exciting topic. Evidently some foreigner had been riding and he thought the fare was too high. Noise and genteel swearing were the chief argument.

They swore in German, French and Russian; In Greek, Italian, Spanish, Prussian; In Turkish, Swedish, Japanese— You never heard such oaths as these. They scolded, railed and imprecated, Abased, defied and execrated; With malediction, ban and curse They simply went from bad to worse; Carramba! O, bismillah! Sacre! (And ones than which these aren't a marker.) The very air with curses quivered As each his favorite oath delivered; A moment's pause for breath, and then Each buckled up and cursed again.

But the storm ceased as quickly as it had begun and in a minute they were all as complacent and jolly as children.

Fanny read aloud to her grandfather the words over the archway:

"There be three things which make a nation great and prosperous: a fertile soil, busy workshops, and easy conveyance for men and goods from place to place."

"Grandpa, Bacon wrote that and he lived in the time of Shakespeare, when Elizabeth was Queen of England."

"Yes, yes, child, it's a great prophesy of our greatness. I thought before I came here that the soil done about all of it and what little was not done by the soil was done by the workshop but I see that there is just as much necessity and greatness outside of these things."

"Grandpa, let me read what is on the right side of the doorway: "Of all inventions, the alphabet and the printing press alone excepted, those inventions which abridge distance have done most for civilization." That was Macaulay, the great essayist and historian of England. I wish I had known he said that, for last month we debated in our literary society the question: "Resolved. That bullets have done more for the spread of civilization than books.""

It is rather an amusing thing to note how the exposition affects different people. Some of the visitors are of a type which nothing moves. They have lived all their lives in the pursuit of a placid routine of simple duties, and, while they have come to the fair from a sense of duty and fully intend to see all that may be seen, still they are prone to retire on occasion to some quiet corner where they can rest unobserved, and then their talk invariably drops into some simple, natural channel that is in accord with the tenor of their dally lives. Of course this is tinctured more or less with the unaccustomed sights and sounds about them, but not greatly so; for the most part they simply ignore their surroundings.

In strong contrast are the ones who have obviously got themselves up expressly for the fair regardless of expense; their clothes are new, and are chiefly noticeable for the quality which Stevenson refers to as "a kind of mercantile brilliancy." They are nearly as much occupied in allowing others the inestimable pleasure of gazing at them as they are in improving their own minds. They are visitors, pure and simple, and they are characterized by such an air of newness that even the flies avoid them for fear of sticking to the varnish.

There is the girl with the notebook, a schoolmarm presumably, though heaven only knows, she may be a lecturer. She usually numbers glasses and a dark velvet bag among her accoutrements.

She is possessed of all of the catalogues and guide books sold on the grounds, and in the bag is a further supply of heavier literature for the improvement of her idle moments. It would puzzle anybody to find out when these idle moments occur, for when visible she is engaged in a frantic rush from place to place, pausing only for a moment to ask a question or jot down an impression, sometimes doing both at once without even looking at the dispenser of information.



She must have a miscellaneous mind, this girl, for anything seems to go with her from pig iron to poetry. One of her stopped for an instant in the Electricity building to inquire the name of a queer, compact, powerful looking machine. The impression which she received from the laconic attendant in charge went into her notebook in this form:

Multiple intensifier is round and black; looks powerful; attendant says 360 horse power. Mem., look up multiple intensifiers in Century dictionary on return, and find how they are applied to horses.

The machine in question was a dynamo, but perhaps she will never know.

In the Japanese section of the Manufactures building two dear little old women sat down to rest their tired feet in the midst of a bewildering display of pottery, whose brilliant tints contrasted strongly with the rusty crape and bombazine in which they were dressed.

"I don't see," said one of them, "the use of sending missionaries to Japan. I suppose they do worship all them things, but, even if they do, I think that if they had as much pretty china to home as they've got here, I'd be inclined to worship it myself. I just don't see how they can help doing it. Do you?"

"No, I don't," said the other. "It seems almost what you could expect. I don't believe they are so very bad after all. I can't believe that anyone who could make such lovely things could be a very wicked heathen. I should think the Japanese would almost feel like sending missionaries over here."

But Fanny was of a different type, she realized the sublime display of mind and she grew months in the excellence of womanhood every hour of her enthronement in the soul of this great panorama of intellect and labor. Aunt was silently seeing everything like the great dream that it was but Uncle was storing his mind with facts whereby he could confound his neighbors.

"It really seems strange to me," said Fanny, "to see how some of these people take the Fair for a circus. If the band played all the time they would never get a chance to look inside the buildings. The moment they get within earshot of the tuba horns they anchor themselves to benches or camp-stools and watch the leader swish the air with his baton. After the music stops they will begin hunting for more excitement, and may finally wander in among the pictures and admire some battle scene covering a whole wall. To-day I saw a young man and his girl standing before that wonderful statuary from the Trocadero palace looking the goddess in the eye while both were eating peanuts. They are after nothing but a good time, as at a country fair. I believe it is all because they don't understand what they are looking at. Grandpa, I can finish my education now and know how to bless you for your goodness to me. I am just beginning to see what a great privilege it is to live."



CHAPTER IX

THE PLAISANCE PROPHECY

Fanny had made the acquaintance of one of the ladies in charge of the educational exhibit of one of the states, and who occupied rooms on the grounds. This lady made arrangements for Fanny to remain over night with her and view a sunrise on the lake and over the "White City." It was to be an experience well in keeping with her emotional nature.

The morning came, and the two placed themselves where they could see through the columns of the peristyle across the lake in the direction of the sun. They were sitting on their camp stools on the bridge east of the statue in the basin with their cloaks drawn tightly around them, waiting in awe as they saw the suffusions of color spread upward into the grey sky.

Suddenly there is a flash of fire far out on the lake. The last pink curtain of mist rolled slowly away light and fleecy as cotton wool, and the sun, behind this lazy apparel of his rising, spreads a crimson glow over the sky and lake. Miles it comes across the rippling waves, stealing through each arch and pillared opening of the peristyle, creeping over the motionless waters of the basin and bringing brightness everywhere.

Slowly the great ball of fire rises higher. Now it flashes upon the statue of liberty, now on Diana, aiming her arrow down into the laughing waters. Under its rays the winged angels on the spires of the palace of mechanic arts seem to start into life, as if they had but paused for an instant in their flight toward the land of dawning.

Now the statues of the seasons, flanking the four corners of the Agricultural building, greet the day. Columbus, his face ever toward the west, rides onward with the sun in his triumphal car. He looks down on the work wrought out to his glory and honor, but his journey is westward still, out of the sunlight into the gloom. Against the dark western sky hangs the majestic dome of the Administration building, now a blaze of ivory and gold.

The sun lifts slowly out of the water. Its rays shine white and clear. The tired guards lean wearily over the parapets of the canals, throwing bread to hungry swans. Flocks of seabirds sweep up and down the canals like the first flurries of autumn snow. The water fowl greet the day with joyous clamor, adding a quaint, rural touch, almost startling in this city of silent palaces. They splash about the wooded island, screaming lustily when boys come in skiffs to steal their eggs. Swallows and frowsy little sparrows flit from their nests, built in the very hands of the golden goddess of Liberty.

From the roofs of every building there is a sudden flash of color. A thousand flags float in the morning breeze. Ten thousand workmen hurry through the sunny park.

The mystical city of dreamland is again the workshop of the world.

Three hours later our family were together in the art gallery glancing at the famous paintings and statues which the nations had given to show what subtle art can achieve on canvas and stone.

Aunt said she always knew those French people were the most shocking people in the world. How different their section of paintings from those of the United States. Fanny had no time for any thought outside of the overwhelming beauty of all she saw. She had begun to paint a little and to do some molding, and she knew how to appreciate the marvelous skill before her. She saw very few people who saw anything in them but a show. Uncle was positively disgusted, and went through only as if it was his duty to see everything. But among the statuary he found some things of more interest.

"Why, Grandpa, how solemn you look. Now, I can't feel solemn at this piece of statuary. Let's see what is its name. Here it is—'The Struggle for Bread.' That makes it more interesting. The people are starving and the factories can give work only to a few. Every day they throw out tickets from the windows, and whoever brings a ticket to the office window is employed. Look at that strong young man. He has secured one and the old man is pleading for it, and the woman with her little child has been knocked down in the struggle of the people for the ticket."

"Yes, yes, child, you can appreciate only the romance and sentiment of it. You have never struggled in despair for bread, and may God keep you! but Sarah and me have seen many sad, weary days of struggles to live."

Johnny had little care for the sentiment or the romance. He was much amused, but it was a dull place for him. At last a thought struck him. He struggled with it several minutes in a very deep study before he ventured to reveal his perplexity. At last it became too great to be borne longer.

"Say, Grandpa, I kin see why the sculpture can't sculpture clothes on their folks; but I don't see why the painters can't paint their folks up some more decent."

That same thing puzzled Uncle, and he could not answer. He thought a great deal, but he only muttered something about pictures not fit to be stuck on his horse-lot gate posts.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Fanny and Aunt found Uncle and Johnny sitting disconsolately on the steps of the south entrance awaiting their appearance.

John was patriotic and he wanted to see the liberty bell over in the Pennsylvania building. A great crowd was gathering as they came up and Johnny found out that the interest came from the fact that the Duke of Varagua, the representative of Spain at the Fair and the descended of Columbus, was visiting the bell. It was a sight to awaken memory for the representative of the fifteenth century discovery to be paying respects to the representative of nineteenth century liberty.



City folks were not there alone. Many country people were enjoying the pulses of freedom, liberty and patriotism. An honest looking plow boy standing near Fanny asked his father what he thought of the "Dook," a real live "Dook."

"I think the dook ort to be proud of hevin' been kin to Columbus, but I'll be blamed ef I don't think Columbus would be proud too, if he wuz yer, and could tech hands 'ith his forty-eleventh grandson. It takes a purty good man to stand all the honors levished 'pon him that the dook's a-gittin' 'ithout his head a-bein' turned, an' I jes' say good fur the dook."

"It's all right to hev smart kin folks afore you, but it takes lots o' hustlin' in these days an' lots o' hard work in order to stand fust; an I vote the dook is a fine represen'tive o' his Columbus grandfather. Now lets git closer to the old lib'ty bell."

As the rural philosopher looked upon the bell hanging there in the Pennsylvania State building he said, unconscious of the crowd around him:

"When thet bell kep' a ringin' out lib'ty, the folks thet wuz they didn't know thet in a little mor'n a hundred years the hull world would be a bowin' to thet bell; an' they never hed no idee it would be carried away out yere in a place called Chicago, covered over 'ith flowers an' gyarded by perlice to keep folks from a techin' it, a fearin' harm might cume to it—an' it a standin' as a symbol o' great faith an' courage. I'm powerful glad I kin stand yere to-day with my fam'ly and look at thet bell. I jes' wisht they'd let it ring onct."

But there were others too ignorant or stupid to be patriotic before such a scene.

John became indignant, almost to the fighting point, at the amazing stupidity of some of the remarks concerning the bell. To him it was more than an emblem, it was a hero.

He heard comments which are past belief. Of course, there are patriots who approach with reverence and understanding and who are only restrained by the police from chipping off pieces of the bell, but many enter and gaze and depart in bland ignorance.

"By jinks! but that's an old feller," exclaimed one inspired ignoramus. "Wonder where it came from." Another, a stout, prosperous, business-looking party, observed that it was cracked. "Reckon that was done bringing it here," he said. "The railroads are fearful careless about handling freight."

Still another intelligent communicator, and it seemed as if nothing short of positive inspiration could justify his views, spoke of the bell slightingly as a poor exhibit, and wondered what the Pittsburg foundries meant by sending such stuff to an international exhibition.

It was now noon lunch time, and our happy family went over to a table in one of the cafes. At one o'clock Uncle and Aunt were to occupy rolling chairs in spending the afternoon sight-seeing around Midway Plaisance. They had heard a great deal about the sights there, and concluded it best to see the outside first and prepare a campaign of sight-seeing based on information received from the chair pushers.

Across the table from them sat a man eating his meal in a fatigued sort of way that caught their attention.

"Good evening, Colonel," said a gentleman, coming up to him. The colonel was not himself, that was plain. His eyes looked dreamy, and he had the appearance of a man who was under the influence of some strong and very pleasurable excitement. When the friend saluted him he did not reply with marked courtesy. He did not even look at him. He continued to gaze unmeaningly at his plate, and to murmur "Irene-te-raddle, fol de-rol. I'll niver go there anny more."

"What's the matter with you?" asked the gentleman, testily.

"Well, sir, it do beat the dickens," said the colonel, irreverently, "I've lived a long toime an' seen manny a queer soight in circuses an' dime musooms an' hanky-panky shows, but niver till to-day—oh! Naha-a, it's a bright eyes an'—a bonny locks—" here the colonel began to thrum the table.

The friend came over impatiently and shook his fist under the colonel's nose.

"You weak-minded old gazabo, is it to hear ye singin' topical songs thot Oi came down from Archery road? What ails ye?"

The colonel remarked easily: "Don't git gay, George; don't git gay. Because Oi chuse to sing a little is no reason why ye should take liberties." Then he went on, half-musing: "Oi don't give annything for the Fair itsilf. O'Connor tuk me in there first, but what do Oi ca-are for show cases full uv dhried prunes, ould r-rocks an' silk handkerchers? I was f'r goin' over to see Buffalo Willie shootin' Injuns an' rescuin' Annie Oakley frum the red divvels, but O'Connor sez: 'No,' he sez, 'come on an' see the Midway,' he sez. 'So over we goes to the Midway, an', George, Oi haven't been well since. There'll be a trolley in me hed to me dhyin' dhay, there will, there will. We had no more than got in the strate when a nigger in a mother Hubbard comes up an' sez: 'Little mon.'

"'Yis,' sez I, 'an' dom ye little mon till ye do go home an' put on ye're pants, ye bould thing.'

"'Hugh-h!' sez O'Connor; 'that's a Turk.'

"'Thin there's a pair of us,' I sez; 'let's go.'

"'Well,' he sez, 'come into the Turkish village.'

"'An' see more niggers? I'll not,' I sez.

"'Will you go to the Irish village, thin?'

"'No,' I sez, 'aint I seen you?'

"'Well, where will you go?'

"'If you know a place where they keep beer,' I sez, 'I'm convenient.'



"He shoots me into a hole in the ground. George, ye should a seen it! At one table sat a lot of black fellows with red towels around their heads an' knives stickin' out of their yellow cloaks. At another table was half-a-dozen gurrls with earrings as big as barrelhoops in their ears.

"'Come on back,' sez O'Connor.

"'No,' I sez, 'this is good enough for a poor man,' an' we sat down at the next table to th' gurrls. Well, sir, from that time my mind's a blank. I was like the feller in the story-books. I knew no more. I dunno what happened at all, at all, with dancin' gurrls an' snake cha-armers an' Boolgarian club swingers an' foreign men goin' around with their legs in mattesses. All I know is this, that I was carried to a ca-ar in a seedin' chair by two men with room enough in the seat of their pants to dhrive a street sweeper. Did y'r never ride in a seedin' chair, George? Then, faith, ye're not in my class. Fol-der-rol, de-rol de raddle, fol——"

"An' what did ye do with O'Connor?"

"How do I know? The last time I remimber him he was askin' a girl in the Turkish theayter whether she liked vanilla or rawsburry in her soda wather, the droolin jackanapes. Ah, na-ha, the girls of Limerick city——." The colonel resumed his thrumming.

"And is that all you see of the fair."

"Yis," said the colonel, "an' faith! if you had me hed you'd think it was enough. An', George, to be in earnest wid ye, that I've known since you was a little dirty boy, go to the fair, ride around in the boats, luk at the canned tomatties an' the table-clothes, ride in the electric cars, but beware of that Midway. It'll no do for young men at all, at all. You'd lose your head. You would, you would. Oh, fol-de-rol, de raddle rol."

After this amusing experience just related before them, Uncle thought it very advisable to give Johnny "a good talkin' to about doin' nothin' wrong in that heathen exhibition of furriners."

But Johnny could afford to finish that Saturday walking demurely around with the rest, for the next Monday morning Louis, the train-boy, was to be guard and guide through the mysteries of Midway Plaisance.



CHAPTER X

PLAISANCE SOCIETY

When Monday morning came the family were promptly at the 60th street gate at nine o'clock. Johnny espied Louis with his eye over a knot hole that seemed designed by providence to let the hungry outsiders have a morsel of the Midway Plaisance scenery. Inside of the grounds Johnny determinedly led the way at once to the great Ferris go-round. They stood before it measuring their chances of living through such a revolution. It did not take much to persuade Fanny to accompany the venturesome boys; Uncle positively refused to discuss such a piece of folly, but Aunt decided at last that if Fanny went she must go also.

Like a forbidden specter the skeleton of the Ferris Wheel stands out gaunt and fleshless. All around is full of light and gayety.

A devout Moslem may be pardoned if, as he passes, he touches his forehead with three fingers of his right hand and murmurs: "Allah il Allah!" Some such exorcism seems to be needed to ward off the evil spirits that one would think must cluster around the ponderous structure, perching, perhaps, like the broomstick riders of Salem, on its spare metal ribs.

They entered the car of the great wheel, and when the signal to start was given they found that another old lady with her dudish son were to be their companions in the aerial flight.

The earth was dropping away. Higher and higher they went. Johnny was holding with a death-like grip on to the car. Fanny's whole life was passing before her like a procession of spectres. In a few minutes they had gone more than one hundred and fifty feet, and the sky seemed to be falling upon them.

"Stop her!" shouted the dude, accompanying his words with a frantic waving of his hands. Higher yet they ascended and his face assumed the look depicted in the features of Dante's characters when about to enter the infernal regions.



"Now, if the good Lord ever permits me to get back to the earth safely," said the old woman, "I promise never to leave it again till I am called to die."

They had reached the top and passed the crisis of going up. Now they began to fall. The sky was leaving them, and the earth was coming after them. They had no time to think. The coming down was worse than the going up. When they stepped out on the earth at the bottom of their descent it was with a sensation of thankfulness never experienced before.

The wheel is 275 feet high, and requires over 500 horse power to turn it. The axle is the largest piece of steel ever forged, and it was a great triumph of engineering skill to put it in place 150 feet from the ground.

Hagenbeck's animal show was naturally the next attraction. Some distance ahead of them there was quite a commotion. Johnny and his companion were, as usual, ahead. In another minute Johnny came running back to Fanny and caught her by the hand. Without a word he started forward with her at a rapid pace. Quite a crowd was following some strange object, and Johnny hurried Fanny around to the front, where she saw Mr. Hagenbeck coming leisurely toward them with a lion walking by his side. This was the object which was attracting such a large crowd of people, and it indeed took some courage to stand there as he came by. So completely did they all acknowledge the superiority of the animal that there was no jostling about him. The Columbian guards did not have to form a line—in fact, even they gave way to the distinguished walker who held his head high in the air and enjoyed the bright sunshine without deigning to look at the crowd of different races around him. He was a native of India, and was born to be a king, but his plans in life were interfered with, and the forest in which he was to have ruled was invaded and he was captured. For some time he had not been feeling well, and the proprietor determined to let the captive see the sunshine. So they started out together, the lion walking along as quietly as a spaniel. When the six lions in the cage saw their comrade out for a stroll they gave a chorus of roars which made the windows rattle. It was answered from the roadway, and six guards who stood by thought discretion the better part of valor, and started on a run for the viaduct. Mr. Hagenbeck called them back and told them it was all right, but they still kept a safe distance. The lion seemed to enjoy the outing, yet when his trainer started to come back the monarch of the jungle followed him.

The crowd parted as the pair came toward it with more haste than grace, and the lion licked his companion's hand and went back to his cage. Mr. Hagenbeck explained that the lion is one of the largest in the world, and is not yet full grown. It is perfectly gentle, and at his home in Hamburg it is not kept in a cage, but plays in the yard with his children like a cat.

In front of Hagenbeck's building there were assembled a motley crowd of people gazing into a small room over the entrance way. There were a number of lions jumping about at the crack of the master's whip and giving the people a sample show of what could be seen inside. It caught the crowd, for there was a rush to the ticket office when the keeper disappeared from among the lions.

In the center of the building was a circular cage that looked like an old fashioned wire rat trap greatly enlarged. Into this cage the animals were introduced to go through with their performance.

"Well for that bear to walk on that globe and roll it along beats anything I ever seed," said Uncle. "He's got more agility in him than I ever had even at my best. Johnny, you couldn't walk a log across the creek as well as that bear walks that pole, and just look at him walking backwards. If you will notice, Johnny, you will see that the trainer gives all that acts bad a lump of sugar and the ones that act good don't get nothing. That's the way of lots of things, but if you will notice it the good ones will live the longest."

Aunt admired the dogs very much and observed that they didn't have to be told what to do as the others did and they were more willing and more grateful for attention. It was really pathetic and comical to see how they seemed to appreciate applause.

The dwarf elephant, thirty-five inches high, was brought into the arena in an ordinary trunk. It complacently ate some sugar and returned to its quarters.

When the show was over they walked up the street toward the Turkish village. Here a number of people were gathering around a Turkish fakir who was at the side of the street loudly proclaiming the merits of his wares and shouting out some tirade that his employer had taught him as a means of attracting a crowd. Johnny had seen the fellow before and he drew his friends up close to him so they could hear his peculiar harangue.

"By the beard of the prophet, my heart swells to spill the souls of those christian dogs. I am the mighty man of the desert and they shall repent or die."

"He, he, he," yelled Louis, "that's the feller what the kids told me yanked the mummy of Rameses from the holy temple and knocks out all the Chinamen and Arabs along the Plaisance. Look at him howl."

"Oh, Jeremiah, let's get away quick. I'm 'fraid he's dangerous," said Aunt Sarah.

"No he ain't," said Louis. "Jest watch me," and he walked up and tossed a copper at the orator's head and Abdul, the mighty man of the desert, caught it with a grin and in broken English said "tank ye."

"Disturb me not, O reckless heathens," and he flipped a pebble with his fingers at a passing German who had just come out of the mediaeval castle with a tray of beer mugs on his head. The stone struck him on the ear. He set his tray down on a table and came over to the warlike Arab.

"Wot ver you trow dot stein."

"Move on I contend only with the strong and mighty."

"Wot ver you trow dot stein," and the little waiter edged up close.



"O mamma, I know the poor waiter will be killed, let's run away quick," said Fanny.

"O yer don't know nothin'," said Johnny, disgusted. "The Dutchman kin lick him in a minnit."



"Wut ver you trow dot stein. You tink I am a house side. Donnervetter! I gif you some brains alretty;" and before Abdul, son of Cairo, could think, the little German tripped him to the ground, and as he fell caught him by the hair and dragged him into the boundary lines of the Turkish village, slammed him on the ground, and in a few minutes was back among the beer tables of the castle with his tray, calling "peer, peer, shents! ah trei peer, two cigar, kevarter tollar!"

The day had been a very fatiguing one, and Uncle and Aunt decided to spend the next day quietly at home in the hotel. Johnny and Louis had stayed manfully by the old folks all day, and their promised adventures had not yet occurred. The next day they were to be the guardians of Fanny, and they were quite proud of the duty.

Fanny's note book and sketch book were now pretty well filled. Midway Plaisance heads and feet offered the most tempting work for her pencil. It is tempting enough for anyone to ask: "Where did you get that hat?" or "Where did you hit that shoe?" Evidently not in Chicago. Nothing of their kind ever graced a western city in such versatile varieties until the bands began to play and the world's cake-walk moved down the Plaisance.

In former years, when they had band concerts and Sunday school picnics at Jackson Park the visitor saw about four kinds of masculine headwear. One was the gray helmet of the park policeman resting under the tree. Another was the tall and shining silk hat of the elderly parent. In addition to these were some straw hats with rims not so wide as those of 1893, and derbys which were a trifle higher in the crown than the new ones. In the general description at the park the old styles of headwear have been crowded to the background by foreign novelties. The dicer, the fez, the turban, the hood, the helmet and the sun-shade are becoming very common. Only the stranger who comes into the gates is startled by the sight of a gaunt black man wrapped in a sheet and wearing coiled around his head enough clothing to make a good wash. But of all the incomprehensible varieties of headwear about the grounds from foreign lands, it remained for our own American Indian to outdo them all. When the great No Neck, of the Sioux nation, walks through the grounds with his war bonnet of eagle feathers trailing on the ground, the East Indians concede their defeat. No Neck's bonnet is worth about $400.

The footwear is worse in variety, if such a thing is possible. Perhaps, after all, it is a matter of education rather than appearance or convenience. The most elaborate is the high-topped boots of the German cavalryman, and the least the Dahomey Amazon, who sometimes has a red string tied around her great toe. They come from a torrid country, and have been freezing nearly every day, but scorn the apparel of the weak white man. The Amazons refuse to wear shoes. When it is too chilly for them to gallop around inside the bark fence they crawl into their tents, roll themselves up in the black blankets and criticise the policy of the Exposition.

On a moist day, when a Chinaman walks down the Plaisance he leaves a trail of oval-shaped tracks. It would take a keen judge of human nature to decide by looking at the tracks whether he has left home or was going back.



The Soudanese slipper is the most shiftless thing that a man ever put on his foot. It is simply a leather sole and toe. These represent the triumph of laziness. The Soudan citizen simply walks into his slipper in the morning and then in the evening he backs out. Every time he takes a step he lifts his heel away from the sole and it seems morally certain that he will lose the slipper, but in some way he manages to hold it. It is said this trick is accomplished by elevating the big toe at each step, thus preventing any slip. Any uncultured American who started for a promenade, wearing such things, would be in his stocking feet before he proceeded ten steps, but the men in the Cairo street tramp around all day and apparently do not realize that they are running any risk.

That evening at home Fanny gave a review of her note book, wherein she had recorded her observations on the politeness of the different nations as she had witnessed them. She thought the Javanese were the politest people of all. They always lay their hands upon their hearts and say, "I am honored," when spoken to. When they failed in their ability to answer a question, they just smile to show their good will. The Fort Rupert Indians politely tell their visitor to go when they have told what is asked for. There is of course more kinds of etiquette in the Plaisance than in any other spot of its size on earth. If the visitor desired to be just right it would require an etiquette reference book in at least sixteen languages.

Among the Turks there are strange habits. In greeting a stranger they bow very low and remain perfectly silent until spoken to. They will then shake hands in a genuine English fashion. One Turk calling on another will never sit down until the host arrives, even if he has to wait an hour. When the host comes in the two sit down after having exchanged greetings and not another word is spoken until coffee is served. The Syrians, on the other hand, will not turn their faces to a host before being spoken to. It is the proper thing when visiting one of them to take a seat with the back to the door and wait until the host enters and make no move until spoken to, when the visitor is expected to rise and bow.

To fully understand all an Egyptian says and does is a harder task than deciphering the hieroglyphics on an obelisk. The language of the Egyptian gentleman is the most fulsome possible. If he should be in need of a little temporary loan he will pound the man (whom he hopes to confidence successfully) on the back until he can hardly breathe. Experts in Egyptian etiquette can tell by the pounding process what is coming, and when the ceremony reaches the piledriver degree it is the proper thing to say: "What can I do for you?"

On hearing this the Egyptian will talk something like this: "Do for me? Why, my dear and most honored sir, your humble dog of a servant would not presume to ask a favor of one so great as you. I thought of calling on you yesterday, but it rained, and I feared that you would not be in a good humor and might refuse me, but then I want nothing. Who am I that a humble follower of Mohammed should dare to ask of you, my great lord and master, the very slightest favor? And yet if it had not rained yesterday I should have been fully inclined to ask you for temporary aid, but to-day I would not think of causing your highness any trouble. Why should I, who am so lowly, ask one for $5 for a few days. It would be an insult to you; one you could never forget. What, you insist on it? I am to take this, am I? Now really, as I was saying that one so low—but if you positively insist, if you are sure you will be deeply and terribly insulted if I do not take it—but your dog of a servant——"

That settles it. Having obtained the money he marches out without a thank you or goodbye.

The Dahomey people are the strangest of all. The first greeting of one amazon to the other is to slap her face. The visitor always slaps the hostess first, and if the visit is welcome the visitor gets a cuff on each cheek, and if it is not convenient to receive the visitor no slap is given in return.

But the palm is left to the American for a whole-souled disregard of the feelings of others. The show was brought here for the special benefit of the visitor; he has paid his money, and he has the right to do as he pleases.

If the sedan chair bearers happen to pass with some fat man for a passenger, the whole street is in an uproar of English comment meant to be humorous. Then the ordinary American visitor seems to think it his prerogative to point at the foreign contingent and say things aloud about them that would secure physical retaliation if the object of the remark were a citizen of the United States instead of a guest of the nation.



CHAPTER XI

A STARTLING MYSTERY

The next day was what the boys called African day; that is, they intended to see all that was to be seen from Dahomey to Nubia and Soudan. Fanny was to spend the morning in the panoramas of the Burnese Alps and the volcano Kilaueau. At noon she would meet them at one of the inns.

The boys wandered about for some time in search of adventure. Over in the street of Cairo there were two peculiar structures that looked like inverted soup-bowls. There was a three cornered aperture In the front of each where men and women could be seen crawling in and out. Over one of these doors was a placard on which was painted, "See the 18 months old Soudanese baby dance. The only dance of the kind on earth." Over the door of the other one was a placard on which was printed "Only 25c to see the great Nubian terpsichorean evolutions." Two or three men would come up, stand awhile and listen at the curious sounds from within, resembling very much the noise made by a pack of curs after a rabbit they did not hope to catch; or, perhaps, more like a plantation jamboree when all the strings of the banjo were broken but one and it had been mended twice.

The people came to see the sights, and here was a mysterious something they might regret a lifetime in the missing. Our two boys required no mental balancing of any nice points of propriety. It was there to see, and they had the money to see it with. What more was wanting? Nothing but to exchange the fee for the yellow ticket and present it to the saffron-hued keeper of the door. The little half space alloted to visitors inside was crowded, but the two boys were soon at the front. This was the Nubian's place. There were two men, two women and two little girls. All had what seemed very much like bed-sheets wrapped closely around them. The older girl, according to Johnny's estimate, was six inches through and about five feet tall. One of the men had a belt made of goat hoofs. He danced around awhile and then held out his hat for voluntary contributions. A number of nickels and dimes went in, and then a vigorous dancing commenced. The dance consisted in all jumping straight up and down as stiff-legged and as high as possible. The hat went round again, and the pennies and nickels came in by handfuls. This made them wild in their desire to give value received, and they jumped higher and higher, faster and faster. Sometimes they forgot that they were in Chicago and neglected to attend to the sheet with dexterity. But when people are in Nubia they are supposed to do as the Nubians do and not regard these little negligences. Some of the women went out, but Johnny and Louis stayed in; and they kept staying like a small boy at a free phonograph. They were studying Nubians.

After being satiated with knowledge, they remembered that there was a Soudanese baby dance, the only one of its kind on earth. They might be missing something. Then they wanted out.

In the next place they saw the same kind of people and the same dance. True, there was a baby eating some candy in the back of the hut, but its jaws did all the dancing for it. This was a swindle which the boys would not further encourage by their presence, and they withdrew.

From this they went over to the Dahomey village. Like all Gaul, Dahomey is divided into three parts, whereof Monsieur and his staff inhabit one, his warriors a second, and his amazons a third. The amazons are twenty in number and for the most part are occupied in the pursuit of keeping their pickaninnies from making mud pies with the drinking water. They live in a row of long, low huts thatched with palm leaves.



A rail runs in front of the huts and a board sidewalk, on which the amazons squat to perform their toilets, mainly consisting of the application of greasy combs to the half inch of wool accorded them by their Creator to serve the purpose of hair.

Day and night they oil themselves. Other times they oil one another. Their shining bodies reflect the glory of the noonday sun. Their complexions when their toilets are fully complete approach patent leather. Other times they stop short at the tint of a newly blacked pair of Oxfords.

Inside the huts the amazons betake themselves to arts of peace. A tall woman, clad in a striped loin cloth, was rubbing corn between two big stones in a firm faith that eventually it would become meal. The miller is the curiosity of the realm, for she only has two husbands, both of whom, however, she saw fit to leave behind her in Africa to mind the babies. In Dahomey the hand that rocks the cradle does not bother about ruling the world. Woman has her rights with a vengeance among those people and man has fully recognized her fighting qualities.



They found the village tightly enclosed in a high board fence. Then began a vigorous search for knot-holes. But every opening they found had the walls of a hut before it. At last they were partially rewarded by discovering a fault in one of the boards where they could see past one of the huts into the enclosure. Half a dozen of the backs of men and women could be seen about ten steps from the fence. The people would bend over out of sight and then back again. All kinds of conjectures came to the boys. Louis suggested that they were "shootin' craps." Johnny thought they were doing some kind of a religious ceremony. The pressure of curiosity became too great to be endured. They went around the corner and discovered that there was not a single guard in sight. Johnny was standing the expenses, and Louis was generous enough to propose that some means be secured to elevate Johnny to the top of the fence. No more intense brain work was expended on the Ferris wheel than these two boys gave to the proposed elevation. It took mechanical skill of the highest order, for the management had provided for these emergencies, and there was nothing in sight to help them. But necessity kindly became again the mother of invention. There was a small tool chest a short distance down the back fence waiting for the wagon to take it away. It evidently contained no tools, for it was quite light, and the boys soon had it set on end against the fence. Louis got on top of this and was able by tip-toeing to get an occasional glimpse over. But not long enough to reach any conclusions as to the mysterious ceremonies transpiring within. Louis caught hold of the top of the fence firmly and told Johnny to climb up over his back. The natives were too intent at their work to see him, and he got astride of the fence without any difficulty, but in such a position that he could not see what was going on. The eaves of the conical shaped hut were almost in reach. He moved back a little and put his hand on the roof to steady himself. But, alas, the roof was dried palm leaves, and instead of supporting him his hand plunged through and before he could recover himself he fell crashing over against the house, held there for a moment as in despair and then with an armful of the hut held tight to his breast he fell headlong to the ground. The excited natives in all styles of dress, from the voluptuous mother hubbard, much abbreviated above and below to the heavy slouch hat and military overcoat, all crowded around him in the belief that somehow he was intending to destroy their domestic happiness. Johnny did not know in what form the attack was coming and as he could not turn over to get up without touching one of the natives he concluded it wisest to lie still on his back with the portion of the hut which he had brought down with him, remaining over him for protection. Louis gave a mighty jump upward and got his elbows over the top of the fence. He drew himself up enough to see Johnny lying on his back so still and the natives gathered around him gesticulating wildly and talking in a very excited manner. The sight was enough. Certainly, his friend was dead. He gave a yell that could be heard to the beauty show, and jumped down to the ground, calling for the police at the top of his voice. The natives hearing the noise, supposed there was a plot to murder them all, and one got a long-handled rake some workman had left and began to pull the grass off of the prostrate Johnny. Meantime, the frantic explanations of Louis that the Dahomeys were murdering his friend brought a greater and greater crowd to the corner of the enclosure. A number of guards came up, but they had no key and no authority to break into the village. Some policemen came up, but they were either powerless or could not comprehend. No one had seen the accident, and Louis was fast becoming incoherent in his oft repeated explanations. Meanwhile the crowd grew larger and larger, till hundreds were gathered together. All the Plaisance was coming to see what extraordinary affair was taking place.

When all the debris was pulled off of Johnny he concluded to get up. He tried to make them understand that he wanted out, but they could not get his meaning, for he was so bewildered that he was pointing in another direction from the gate. At last one seemed to comprehend, and he ran as fast as he could go to one of the huts toward which Johnny seemed to point, and returned leading one of the damsels of the place who, from gorgeousness of native modesty, seemed to be the belle of the village. The native evidently thought that Johnny was in love with the girl, and that he had taken this unceremonious method as the last desperate chance of his life to obtain her. The native was presenting her to him with all his natural suaveness, and was apparently offering him the freedom of the town, when the gate opened and two officers rushed in. One of them took Johnny by the ear and led him outside. People were packed about the place in enormous masses, and every available fence or elevation was utilized by the crowd struggling to see. A dozen or more policemen were outside endeavoring to handle the mass of people. It took half an hour for them to make a way to get John to the outside. When they saw Johnny, a great shout was set up, but it only added to the fright that already possessed Johnny's whole mind.

All sorts of stories were afloat among the people. Some said the Dahomeys had captured a boy the night before and were just on the eve of sacrificing him to their idols when a policeman got track of what was going on. As some policemen passed this part of the crowd they were cheered, cheer on cheer, for their keenness and bravery in rescuing an American from such a fate. Others, who claimed to know, said it was worse even than that, for one of the policemen had confided to him that the Dahomey people were about to practice canabalism and had secured the boy in order to eat him. A number were sure that this would cause our government to have these people sent back to Dahomey and as they were under the French government and were brought here by French people it would probably lead to an open rupture between the two republics and perhaps involve all Europe in a struggle for national existence.

The reporters ran the rumors down to the very last prophecy and sent post-haste their scoops to their respective papers and a wave of indignation swept the entire country that canabalism came so near being enacted in the very midst of the greatest enterprise of modern civilization.

The name of the boy could not be learned, nor anybody found who knew anything about him, but there were thousands of people who were witnesses of the rescue and bore testimony of how near our nation came of being disgraced forever. The policemen knew nothing about it. All they could say was that they found the boy surrounded by the natives, and they since remembered that he seemed too terrified to speak, and the natives were greatly excited at the presence of the officers. They had taken the boy to the outside of the crowd and let him go. The natives themselves could give only a confused account of how they had heard a noise and had seen the boy lying near one of the huts on his back and covered with material torn from the roof of one of the huts. Their story was evidently absurd. Meantime the delivery wagon had taken the tool chest away and thus destroyed the only evidence that might have cleared up the case. The fence was too high for the boy to climb over, and the Columbian guards detailed to that section swore they always kept the whole village in view, and it was impossible for the boy to have got over the fence without being seen by them. Like the great wave of the sea that breaks into a million pieces as it strikes the shore, so this great question resolved itself into a thousand theories, and at last lived in the memory of the people only as the great mystery of Midway Plaisance.



CHAPTER XII

BEAUTY SHOW

Fanny was at the inn when noon came but the boys were nowhere to be seen. She saw great crowds of people massed a little way up the street but crowds were a common sight. She heard broken narrations of some exciting event that had transpired but there was nothing to cause her to think that her brother might be the central figure of all the excitement. Johnny rarely missed his appointments with her and she felt that something unusual had occurred or he would have met her at the designated place.

She decided to spend the afternoon at the Libby Glass Works and at the Beauty show. Once in the works, where glass is wrought into the most curious and costly designs, a few hours seems only too short for a good appreciation of the work done. The art, as illustrated there, is as fascinating as a romance. Three hundred people are employed there daily in showing what can be done with glass. Entrance is to be had to the blowing-room, in the center of which is the huge cruciform. In this there are placed the crucibles, as the working-holes are called. The heat in the furnace is 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit.

The batch from which glass is made is composed of sand, lead, saltpetre, potash and soda. It has to be cooked in the terrible heat for twenty-four hours before it is fit for use. In front of the working holes are the workmen. A long steel tube is thrust into the batch and a quantity of the mixture accumulated on the end. From the moment it is taken out of the crucible until the form is completed the operator never allows the hot glass to be still for a moment. It is always moving.

The second floor of the building is a lively place. It is here that the cutting is done. The process is most interesting and shows the highest skill of the glass-worker's art.

Opposite the cutting department is the glass spinning and weaving department. The spinning of glass into fine threads is done by means of a wheel nine feet in diameter which revolves twenty times a minute. A glass rod is exposed at one end to a blowpipe flame. When the glass is melted it is attached to the periphery of the wheel and the operator sits with watch in front of him. Every minute the position of the melting glass is shifted until the broad wheel is filled, when it is stopped and the glass is cut and taken off, made into the desired lengths and taken to the loom. The weaving is done by girls on hand looms. Two hundred threads of glass are woven alternately with one thread of silk. The thread is made up into napkins, neckties, lamp shades, bonnets and hats.



Fanny sat down on a bench to rest for a while when, chancing to glance to the far side of the exhibit she saw Mr. Warner, whom she had formerly known as Mr. Moses, intently watching the work in the looms. She thought very differently of him now. Louis had hotly defended him against everything the confidence man had said, and, of course, she now saw that the man who had spoken against Mr. Warner was of the most abandoned type of men. Somehow she felt that she owed him some palliation for the rudeness she had exercised. It would, perhaps, not be altogether according to the rules of etiquette; but if the opportunity offered she intended to say something in explanation. As he came on around her way she felt her pulses beat faster and her face flushing under some strange excitement. As he approached to where she sat, he saw her and stopped for a moment. When he came by she looked, up and he bowed and was about to pass on, but she arose from her seat and he stopped. He held in his hand some samples of woven goods, and he remarked that he was making a study of these fabrics to see if they were worth handling by his firm. The conversation led on so easily and naturally that she forgot that she had something she wanted to say in extenuation of past rudeness. She could not help observing how totally different was this man's bearing and conversation from the evil-minded man who had presumed upon her acquaintance before. There were no questions asked; no lead in conversation that caused her to speak in any way whatever of herself or her people. In a few minutes he had passed on, and she felt from instinct and reason that this man was a gentleman.



From this place she went over to the international dress exhibit, more commonly known as the "Beauty Show." Here were fifty young ladies chosen from as many different nationalities in order to exhibit the fashions of the world in the highest art of dress. At the front was Fatima, the queen of beauty. Her booth represented a room in the Sultan's harem. On either side, reclining on an ottoman, were her waiting maids, and at her feet her special servant. All the magnificence of oriental splendor surrounded her. A group of at least a hundred people were continually crowding the railing in front. They plied her with questions, and the ladies were much offended because she would not walk around so they could get a better view of her dress.

She could answer questions in nearly any language but Turkish, and she finally admitted to some French gentlemen who were quizzing her that she came from Austria, her foot servant from the south of France, and her waiting maids from Paris.

That international beauty show is a wonderful and fearful affair. The beautiful representative of Ireland is dressed in green, and wears glasses.

"Arrah," said an Irishman to the proprietor, "raley now, is it in grane all the Oirish girruls do be drissed? By the bones av St. Patrig, 'tis the first toime Oi iver saw wan in glasses."

"The fact of the matter is that our Irish young lady is ill, and we have engaged this young lady to fill her place," said the proprietor, and he moved away only to hear the following conversation with the typical Greek lady from the Ionian isles:

"Do you speak English?" from a visitor. The lady shook her head.

"Do you speak French?" This In French by the same. Another shake of the classic head.

"Do you speak Greek?" This actually in Greek, but it only brought another shake.

"Sprechen sie Deitsch?" cried the visitor, with some impatience.

"Oh, ja! ja!" exclaimed the Greek young lady, eagerly, and a general laugh went around the little group which had listened to the conversation.

"Say, Bess," said a young fellow, nudging his girl and pointing to the Queen of Beauty, "ain't she a corker?"

"Naw," replied Bess. "I don't see anything pretty about her. She's all drug store. Anybody can see that."

"How d'ye like that, Mariar?" remarked an old Hoosier, stroking his yellow whiskers and squinting at his better half, a hawk-faced woman of determined countenance. "I tell yer what. Mariar, with all your good qualities yer never could hold a candle to that 'ere girl, could yer, now? Honest?"

"Benjamin! Come right along out o' here. Yer head's bein' turned by these brazen-faced females. Why, yer'll be cavorting around here like a young colt in a minnit or two. The idee o' comparin' me with that painted young woman—me, your loving wife—come along now," and Benjamin went.



At the United States booth there was a pert Miss walking the floor, monarch of all she surveyed, a typical Uncle Sam's daughter. It was a sorry mistake when a dude presumed too much on her patience or a smart young man made too free with his remarks. She was always ready for them, to the delight of the patriotic young Americans about.

Here Fanny found five young girls studying the United States beauty with more than ordinary interest. Each of the girls wore a badge, on which was printed C. C. of C. C., and just above these letters were five more, M. K. S. L. N. A note book containing a pencil was attached by a neat little chain with the badge. There was scarcely a minute that one or the other of them was not writing something in her book.

Dressed exactly alike and being so intent on their work, they were evidently not ordinary sight-seers. Finally some remark was made between Fanny and one of the girls and Fanny showed her own note and sketch book and asked how they were keeping theirs. It soon appeared that these five girls were in a contest of more than ordinary interest. An enterprising newspaper of a Southern Illinois town had sent these five girls to see the Fair. They were to be supplied with all needful money, to be independent of all escorts, to take notes and write up their adventures and their version of the scenes of the great exposition entirely unknown to one another, and the paper would publish their reports on their return. Competent judges were to decide on the merits of their work and a handsome reward would be given to the successful writer. In an adjoining town another editor had sent out five boys on the same errand. The writers must all be between twelve and fifteen. The one out of the ten who did the best work was to receive a splendid souvenir medal. They were given ten days of sight-seeing and their whole souls were in the work.

"But what can be the meaning of these letters C. C. of C. C."

"At home they say these letters mean Crazy Cranks of Cumberland County but the fact is they have a meaning which is a secret that shall die with us. We are sworn with each other never to reveal it and to prove that girls can keep secrets. Of course the letters form our club name, and it has the word Columbian in it, but that is all we are ever to tell. We have a constitution and by-laws and regular meetings for mutual protection and advice in our trials and troubles." This was all quite interesting as a proof of what the girls in the latter part of the 19th century could do. Fanny and these girls at once became fast friends, for she found that they did not live a score of miles from her home, and that there were a number of people and home places that they all knew.

"But what can these letters "M. K. S. L. N." here at the top of the badge mean?"

"Oh, that is no secret. They are the initials of our names—Mary, Kate, Stella, Leila and Nannie."

They said they were not the only ones on a like errand, for they had met a little girl all the way from Boston, and only fourteen years old, who had been sent on the same errand by her class in the high school, and they had heard of girls from the south and west who were coming for the same purpose.

"We can't lecture," said Mary, "but we are going to help the Women's Congress prove that girls have just as much brains and courage as boys."

It was now nearly six o'clock, and Fanny was so interested in the five girls that she persuaded them to go home with her to enjoy the evening together. It promised a pleasant diversion, for the five girls had been hard at work several days and had not met a single acquaintance or congenial friend.

When Fanny arrived at her hotel that evening with the five girls, it was to discover Uncle and Aunt in consternation over an extraordinary story told by Johnny, who had arrived home an hour or two before. According to his story, he and Louis had tried to see into the Dahomey village. He did not know that it was wrong. He missed his balance and fell over the fence. He was scared and stunned by his fall. After a while he heard Louis yelling as if in great pain. Then two policemen came in and protected Johnny till he got safely away. When they reached the outside of the crowd which was all the time yelling at them, the policeman told him to git if he didn't want to get mobbed. He ran as hard as he could run in order to escape. Then he remembered Louis was caught, for he had heard him calling for help. Johnny came back around the buildings, but, alas! the bloodthirsty mob had done its work and Louis was no more. Johnny, now safely at home, lay moaning on his bed and would not be comforted. Fanny remembered having seen the great crowd over by the Dahomey village, but she had not dreamed of such a terrible scene taking place. Altogether it seemed incredible.

"Extry papurs, all about de cannibal feast!"

A thought suddenly struck Fanny that if there had been such a horrible tragedy as Johnny had told of, the papers would tell all about it. She ran down to the street and came back with a copy. She looked rapidly over the paper, but she saw nothing about a lynching at the Fair grounds. Then the front page leader, with its half a column of head-lines caught her eye:

"EXTRA, SEVEN O'CLOCK"

"The Mystery of the Dahomey Village deepens as the Investigation Progresses"

"The French proprietor avers that there was no attempt at Cannibalism, but he cannot make a coherent statement of the case"

"The supposedly bloodthirsty Dahomey men and amazons, said to be the most peaceful and mild in Africa. The natives contradict themselves and tell a dozen different stories. The Exposition management greatly alarmed, and the investigation being pushed with vigor. Horrifying disclosures supposed soon to be reached"

She read it over, then she read it aloud to sorrowing Uncle Jeremiah and Aunt Sarah. The truth of the great unintended hoax and misunderstanding began to dawn upon them. Then she explained the situation, and Johnny was brought out to hear it fully discussed. It was now clear to all of them, but what should they do was the next question. They could not think of the newspaper notoriety that the avowal of the truth would give them. Anyway, it had gone too far for them to interfere. Surely it was wisest and best for them to say nothing. It was so decided. As ludicrous as it was, it had become too grave a matter for amusement.

"Of course you will help us keep this secret, you girls?"

Not a word was returned but Mary picked up her chair and sat down in front of the four girls.

"The noble and progressive association, C. C. of C. C. will now come to order."

Instantly each girl sat prim and upright in her seat.

"Is there any question before this deliberative body of girls?"

Nannie arose and said, "Madam President, I believe it is proposed that we add another secret to our list."

Leila had her note book out and was taking down the minutes of the meeting.

"Believing that this should be done," Nannie continued, "I move that what we have heard and now know concerning this newspaper sensation we forever keep secret."

Stella seconded the motion.

Here Kate got the floor and said she did not think it advisable to add another secret to their list for she now had so many that it was making her life a burden in trying to remember them every time she had occasion to open her mouth. Besides the case would certainly be a scoop for them against the boys and would make them famous and cause the "Weekly Express" to be circulated all over the globe if it published the first true version of the case.



There was a sharp discussion for a few minutes, in which parliamentary usage was dethroned and confusion seemed to rule but they were young women and therefore had not lost a word.

The vote was taken and there was but one voice in the negative. There was a motion to make it unanimous and it was unanimous. Thus the wish of their hostess prevailed and another great secret was forever closed In their hearts from the common herds of mankind.



CHAPTER XIII

SUNDAY AND CONSCIENCE

Johnny could scarcely wait for nine o'clock of the next morning to come around. He wanted to see if his friend Louis was really alive and if he would be at 60th street gate.

Louis was there dancing about in a fever of anxiety. At John's appearance the two boys went off to talk about their mishaps. They had achieved more adventure than they had bargained for.

"Have you seen the papers?" said Louis.

"Yes."

"Have you told anybody yet?"

"No, and my folks thinks it's best never to say anything about it."

"Then we never will."

"Say, Louis," said John confidently, "there was five of the alfiredest best looking girls around at our house last night you ever saw. Fanny found them at the Beauty show a looking at the sights. They live in a town not very far from our farm and they are coming over to visit Fanny before they have to go into school. You have to come down and visit me while they are there or I will have to live in the barn."

The agreement was closed and the boys passed through the gates in quest of new adventures, as if nothing unusual had ever occurred to them.

However, they instinctively avoided Midway Plaisance, and decided to see what was on Wooded Island. They ranged through the hunter's camp, through the Japanese Hooden, and all over the island in the vain attempt to find something equal to their educated fancies of fun. Somehow Louis learned that there was to be a religious dance in the Quackahl cabin. Nothing else could have a place in the boys' minds until they had tickets for the show.

Inside the hut was a strange sight. Wanug had arranged four of his warriors on the east side of the hut, and these formed a quartet that produced the music for the fearful dance to follow. In the center of the hut a log fire burned briskly. The warriors had their faces smeared with Indian ink, and some of the beauty spots looked like demi-semiquavers on a sheet of music. The squaws, and even the papooses, were painted for the occasion, and everyone of the Quackahls were dressed in blue robes, ornamented with striking pearl buttons.

At a signal Hammasoloe suddenly sprang on the boards and began the mythical movement known as the cannibal dance. It was symbolic of a curious legend current among the Indians of Vancouver island, of a strange spirit that dwells among the mountains and spends most of his time eating the fat members of the Quackahl tribe. Hammasoloe took the part of the spirit and crouched down as if ready to spring on his prey. The sticks beat hard on the plank, and the music for the dance began.

A squaw pounded on a square box, which represented the Quackahl drum. Two warriors were deputed to watch Hammasoloe while he circled around the fire, for the usual ending to the dance is startlingly realistic. Usually the dancer becomes so excited that he bites the arms of those present in imitation of the actions of the great spirit on the mountains. Whenever his eyes glared and his looks became ferocious the warriors grasped his arms and quieted him. He disappeared behind a white curtain, and a few minutes afterward out sprang another warrior wearing a huge mask, representing a raven's head. The raven is a slave of the spirit and is supposed to be represented by one man.

But Awalaskaius played the part of the raven. His body proved as supple as a professional contortionist. He twisted his legs and whirled his head around and snapped his jaws in a remarkable manner. Cries that made the ears ring accompanied the dance.

When Awalaskaius had finished, Hammasoloe sprang out from behind the white curtain wearing a blue gown on which the figure of the Quackahl sun was worked. The rays of the sun were blazing red, and the man in the orb was depicted winking in a gracious manner.

Louder grew the noise, and the quartet taunted the spirit so much that he again disappeared. Then came forth Awalaskaius with a duck's head mask, which is the sign of the great spirit. Again he went through his curious contortions and scared some of the ladies, as he snapped his beak dangerously near them.

When the dance was done and the boys were once more outside they were quite satisfied with sight-seeing among savages and were quite contented to spend the remaining days of the week among the more prosaic and poetical scenes of the great Fair.

Uncle and Aunt had about walked themselves down in their sight-seeing, and were now enjoying the comforts of the rolling chairs and listening to the voluble information which the chair pushers thought it their duty to impart.

Fanny was walking near them in a never ceasing enjoyment of people and scenery. As they passed the Woman's building a large number of women were seen coming out together. On going over the viaduct two well dressed men from the Emerald Isle could be heard in critical conversation.

One of them said:

"Look, Pat! It's women again! Do ye mind that now. Look at um coom out ov that new building. It's the Fair that's bein' run by thim faymales. Soon they'll want to run the wurrld, and they'll be votin'. The divil will be to pay in a man's home. They should be taught their places at once. If my wife should git that strong minded sure I'd be packin' her off. Dacent homes are bein' ruined, Pat, and soon there'll be no homes. They meet in clubs to worship the rich, and who will do our mending and cook our meals? It's all wrong, all wrong. The women must be taught their places."



And the poor man looked worried. He is probably teaching Bridget her place today.

Aunt was looking wistfully over toward Wooded Island as if it reminded her of home.

"I tell ye, I haven't saw anything as nice as them flowers. They tell ye of the country, and its quiet over here. Ye get too much of a good thing sometimes out among the white buildings. It's sort o' dreamlike over here, ye know."

She was right, it is dreamlike and it is restful. Din and noise are far away and nothing breaks the stillness but the faint music as it floats down from the plaza. The azalias are in full bloom, and orchids and pansies and nearly every other blossom meet you at every turn.

They stopped at a place where a number of people were looking up at the roof of the Liberal Arts building. Countless small black specks could be seen moving along the roof. Then it was perceived that those specks were really men and women. It is only by such a comparison that they could realize the vastness of these buildings.