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Title: Our Show

Author: David Solis Cohen
        H. B. Sommer

Illustrator: A. B. Frost

Release date: December 7, 2021 [eBook #66895]

Language: English

Credits: Charlene Taylor, Harry Lamé and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR SHOW ***


  Transcriber’s Notes

  Text printed in italics in the source document has been transcribed
  _between underscores_, bold face text =between equal signs=, and
  blackletter text ~between tildes~. Small capitals have been changed to
  ALL CAPITALS; superscript texts are represented by ^{text}.

  More Transcriber’s Notes may be found at the end of this text.




[Illustration:

  For Sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers.

  “1776”                “1876”
  ONE HUNDRED YEARS A REPUBLIC

  OUR SHOW

  DAISY SHORTCUT.
  ARRY O’PAGUS.

  CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER,
  _624, 626, 628 Market Street, Philadelphia_.
  THE AMERICAN NEWS COMPANY, New York.]




OPINIONS OF THE PRESS


From several thousand “opinions,” carefully prepared for the use of the
press, we select the following. We shall be happy to give the remainder
in similar instalments in the future editions of “Our Show.”

  [Special dispatch to the New York Herald.]

  “Have just discovered the book on my editorial table--the fun I am
  still looking for; ’tis harder to find than Livingtone was. The
  African jungles were tame compared to the general wildness of these
  pages.--_Stanley._”

  [From the San Francisco Tribune.]

  “No library is complete without it--in the waste basket.”

  [From the London Times.]

  “We admit that the volume puzzles us. We should be inclined to doubt
  some of the assertions contained within it, even to consider them
  preposterous, had we not long ago given up any attempt to account for
  events or circumstances occurring in America.”

  [From Galignani’s Messenger, Paris.]

  “We have not read this production in the original, but the French
  translation assures us that it is a work of grave import. Beneath the
  simple words there is a depth of meaning and a quiet, dignified tone
  of determination, which the friends of Liberty would do well to heed.
  It is a book to be pondered over. The illustrations are by Mons.
  Jacques Frost, an artist of warm imagination.”

  [From the Berlin Freie Presse.]

  “It is the only book of the kind we have ever seen--thank Heaven!”

  [From the Vienna Court Journal.]

  “The Emperor has not been seen in public for several days. We learn
  from reliable sources that he has been closeted in his study,
  translating, altering, and localizing an American volume called ‘Our
  Show,’ to make it appear the official record of our late International
  Exposition.”

  [From the Pekin Argus.]

  “The Authors are evidently insane.”

  [From the St. Petersburg Daily News.]

  “This, with Sherman’s ‘Memoirs,’ Motley’s ‘Dutch Republic,’ and Mrs.
  Lee Hentz’s ‘Wooed, not Won,’ presents a living argument against those
  who are in the habit of sneering at American literature. If this work
  fails to give America a first place in the rank of letters, it will
  keep her not far from the tail.”

  [From the Constantinople Leader.]

  “It is the joint production of two geniuses. We doubt whether one
  genius could have written it and survived.”

  [From the Copenhagen Sentinel.]

  “Copenhagen is shaken to its centre. Is Sweden dead? Is the land of
  the immortal Yywxtlmp sleeping? Has the American Exposition become a
  thing of the past whilst we are yet preparing for it? or are the
  authors of this book endeavoring, under the guise of an historical
  novel, to lay the foundation for poisoning the world in the future
  with the doctrines of Spiritualism? Philadelphia exchanges call it a
  ‘third term pamphlet.’ We have looked through its pages, and though
  failing to discover what this means, we found one term for which we
  thank the authors--the termination.”

  [From the Hong Kong Examiner.]

  “Americans should receive a book like this with fervor--once every
  hundred years.”




  =1776. FUN. HUMOR. BURLESQUE. 1876.=

  ONE HUNDRED YEARS A REPUBLIC.

  OUR SHOW;

  A HUMOROUS
  ACCOUNT OF THE
  INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION
  IN HONOR OF THE
  CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE,

  =FROM INCEPTION TO COMPLETION,=

  INCLUDING

  DESCRIPTION OF BUILDINGS--BIOGRAPHIES OF MANAGERS--RECEPTIONS OF
  FOREIGN DIGNITARIES--OPENING CEREMONIES--POEM--ORATION--AMUSING SURVEY
  OF ALL DEPARTMENTS, INCIDENTS, ETC. ETC.

  BY
  DAISY SHORTCUT AND ARRY O’PAGUS.

  PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED BY A. B. FROST.

  PHILADELPHIA:
  CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER,
  624, 626, AND 628 MARKET STREET.
  THE AMERICAN NEWS COMPANY, NEW YORK.
  1876.




  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by
  CLAXTON, REMSEN, & HAFFELFINGER,
  in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. All rights
  reserved.

  PHILADELPHIA:
  COLLINS, PRINTER,
  705 Jayne Street.




DEDICATION.


After forty days and forty nights of unceasing meditation, we have
completed this important contribution to

AMERICAN LITERATURE.

It was especially designed for dedication to Mrs. Victoria Guelph, the
representative of our mother country, as a pleasing, though tardy
equivalent for the real estate confiscated by the boys who ran away

ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

But, our far-sighted Secretary of State, an official of the first water,
has pointed out to us the impropriety of especially distinguishing one,
of the many countries interested in “OUR SHOW;” an action likely to give
birth to those bickerings and petty jealousies among the nations which
are so apt to lead to grave results.

We desire, above all things, the general good. Under no circumstances
would we insist upon anything apt to disturb the peace and harmony of
the world; therefore, we select for the honor of a dedication, the
private parties we think most deserving,

OURSELVES.

Daisy Shortcut respectfully dedicates his portion of this work to his
friend and bottle-holder Arry O’Pagus, and Mr. O’Pagus returns the
compliment, by dedicating the outpourings of his colossal intellect to
Daisy Shortcut, and, joining hands, they sign themselves,

  The Purchaser’s
  Most Obedient Servants.

  PARLOR C, CONTINENTAL HOTEL,
  PHILADELPHIA, December 1st, 1875.




CONTENTS.


  CHAPTER I.

                                                                    PAGE

  “THE SPARK.” . . . HOW IT ALL CAME ABOUT                             9


  CHAPTER II.

  “THE FUEL.” . . . WHAT THE WOMEN DID                                14


  CHAPTER III.

  “THE COOKS.” . . . WHO FED THE FLAMES                               21


  CHAPTER IV.

  “THE LOOKERS ON.” . . . WHO CAME TO BE WARMED                       27


  CHAPTER V.

  “THE CRACKLING.” . . . PREPARATIONS FOR THE BLAZE                   34


  CHAPTER VI.

  “THE FIRE.” . . . WHO FLARED AND HOW THEY DID IT                    40


  CHAPTER VII.

  “THE REFLECTIONS.” . . . SHADOWS, SHAPES, AND THOSE WHO MADE THEM   50


  CHAPTER VIII.

  “THE GLOW.” . . . WHO HELPED AND WHO ENJOYED IT                     58


  CHAPTER IX.

  “THE FLICKERING.” . . . HOW IT DIMMED AND HOW IT BRIGHTENED         66


  CHAPTER X.

  “THE SMOKE.” . . . HOW IT WENT UP                                   75




OUR SHOW.




CHAPTER I.

“THE SPARK.” ... HOW IT ALL CAME ABOUT.


[Illustration]

If the late Christopher Columbus, Esq., could have foreseen, as an
indirect result of his little excursion in the spring of 1492, the
infliction of the following pages upon posterity, Mr. Columbus, very
likely, would have stayed at home. Think kindly, therefore, of the dead;
let no blame attach to him. Perhaps a few remarks concerning the ancient
mariner may prove instructive to the reader. Being both happy and able
to impart useful and interesting information, we cheerfully devote a
paragraph to the defunct navigator.

The capitalists of our country are familiar with Christopher,
principally through a cut of that nautical gentleman which an artistic
government has placed upon the reverse side of its five-dollar bills.
The elevated cross in the hands of the piratical-looking monk kneeling
beside him, has given rise to a wide-spread belief that Mr. Columbus was
a bishop or a cardinal. It is our duty to dispel this grievous
misconception. He was simply a Brazilian sea captain, who believed there
were two sides to every question, even to such a serious question as the
world. Having taught Queen Isabella of Spain, who had not then
abdicated, how to make an egg stand and drink an egg-flip, she gave him,
under the influence of the latter, command of the steamer “Mayflower,”
with permission to row out and see what he could find. He landed at
Plymouth Rock; discovered the city of Boston, first, by special request,
being presented with the freedom of THE COMMON by the grateful
inhabitants, and welcomed in a neat speech by Mrs. Harriet Byron Stowe.

Shortly after this, George III. of England commanded that all the male
children born in the Colonies should be cast into the Atlantic ocean. He
also advanced the price of postage stamps. These injustices were more
than the people could stand; they met in Concord, and drove the British
out of Lexington. This alarmed George, who immediately passed the famous
“stamp act,” and telegraphed to Benjamin Franklin, then postmaster at
Philadelphia, authorizing him to distribute free rations of postage
stamps three times a day. But the wires clicked back the touching
refrain--

“Too late! Too late! Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are
these ‘too late.’

  Yours, BEN.”

Benjamin then convened a job lot of patriots at Philadelphia, and they
resolved that these United States were, and of right ought to be, free
and easy. Commodore John Hancock, of the Schuylkill Navy, was chairman
of the convention. On motion of Robert Morrissey (whose nephew John,
late M. C. from New York, inherits his uncle’s statesmanlike and
financial abilities), a bell to proclaim liberty was purchased for the
State-House steeple. They practised economy in those brave days, and
bought a cracked one, because they got it at half price. It is still in
Independence Hall, a monument of our veracity.

The world knows well what followed, and ’tis well for the world that it
does. General Cornwallis finally surrendered to General Scott at the
Germantown Intersection. The “Junction” depot now marks the spot. So,
dismissing our historical reminiscences, we would respectfully request
both the gentle and the savage reader, to imagine, after the manner of
the modern drama, the lapse of one hundred years, ere we proceed with
the second act.

This century being buried in that popular mausoleum, the vast ocean of
eternity, a universally expressed desire to celebrate the nation’s
centennial birthday in a style befitting its present power and
importance, gradually assumed the form of an International Exposition,
to be held during six months of the year 1876. Philadelphia was selected
as the site, partly on account of historical associations and the
proprietorship of the cracked bell, but principally to gratify the
inhabitants of the adjoining Dutch settlement, New York.

[CONGRESSIONAL MODESTY.]

Congress was naturally appealed to for countenance and assistance.
Unfortunately, however, Congress, having bestowed all its material aid
upon railroad and steamship subsidies, had nothing but its moral support
to offer. Having a large stock of this commodity, it was tendered with
the usual modesty and circumspection which marks the action of that body
in national affairs. The President was authorized to invite the world to
the Exposition--without expense to Congress. Philadelphia was granted
permission to hold the Exposition--without expense to Congress; each
State was allowed the privilege of appointing a commission--without
expense to Congress; and, to be brief, the economic representatives of
the people resolved that these United States might go in and have a good
time generally--without expense to Congress.

Jubilant with this encouragement, the State Commissioners organized an
Executive Committee, which appointed a Board of Finance, and auxiliary
committees upon everything and anything, including mining, manufactures,
calisthenics, art, science, primogeniture, horticulture, pisciculture,
agriculture, infanticulture, and hydrostatics. City committees were
constituted. These were jobbed out to wards, and again sublet to
precincts, through which domestic juntas were established in every
household. Thus the voice of the people woke the echoes of the capitol,
and reverberated to the furthermost corners of the universe.

[GEE UP DOBBINS!]

The Building Committee immediately contracted with Mr. Richard J.
Dobbins (the inventor of Dobbins’ electric soap) for the construction of


THE MAIN EXHIBITION HALL.

He agreed to furnish the very first quality of soapstone for the
masonry, and to use Castile only, for the girders. The following were
the chief points of the contract:--

1st. The building to form a parallelopipedon, in order to secure the
choicest location to each exhibitor.

2d. To be thoroughly waterproof. Dr. McFadden of the _Aqua Fontana_
department, and several other eminent surgeons, to fill it up to the
ceiling as a test previous to the opening. The contractors to take it
back if the test proved unsatisfactory.

3d. The walls to be of gutta percha; to be distributed after the closing
of the exhibition to the pupils of the public schools for chewing and
erasing purposes.

4th. A transcript to meander through the centre of the building, with a
knave to right and left. Cucumber pumps of the _Louis Quatorze_ pattern
on the east and west detours, alternating with eight green cellar doors,
to give the same effect and finish which marked the _tout ensemble_ of
the Vienna buildings. A main curricle on the right to be flanked by iron
decades, with arched approaches for bipeds, tripods, and quadrilaterals.

5th. The general appearance of the exterior to favor the Polynesian
style, which is replete with architectural beauties. _Fac similes_ of
the Tower of Babel, Tower of London, Leaning Tower of Pisa, and Tower
Hall, to adorn the four corners. The trusses and bandages supporting the
roof, to be of purple and fine linen, with brass mountings. The roof
itself to be perpetually covered with wet towels, to guard against
sunstroke.

6th. The centre aisle to be covered with canton flannel matting, with
the grass sloping up to the back door. Nineteen hotel candles to
illuminate the ground floor, with a citrate of magnesia light in the
attic window.

This extraordinary structure was completed according to agreement, and
upon being weighed at the corner grocery, kicked the beam at 1234567890
pounds, 19 shillings and sixpence.

Mr. Dobbins was also entrusted with the erection of


MEMORIAL HALL.

This is a permanent building, so adapted that it may be used hereafter
as an Art Gallery or a Station-house. The foundation is not only
cemented with Spalding’s glue, but the iron posterns run through to
China, and are tied on the other side with the back hair of coolies,
detailed for the service through the courtesy of the Pekin government.

[MORITURI SALUTAMUS.]

Notwithstanding Mr. Dobbins’ immense labors in completing these two
buildings, he still found time to run over to Rome and purchase the
Colosseum. He brought it home with him for the purpose of exhibiting
Prince Bismarck and the Pope in gladiatorial contests during the
exhibition months.

[Illustration]

       *       *       *       *       *

The contract for


MACHINERY HALL

was awarded to Mr. Philip Quigley, of Wilmington, Delaware. When it grew
too big for his State, he removed it to and finished it upon the ground
it occupied. The machinery exhibited was worked by forty horse-power,
and a neat stable was attached to the rear for the care and
accommodation of the forty horses, the contribution of the city
passenger railway companies.

All the shaftings were of sandal wood, and the belting of Russia
leather, supplied by the family of the Czar himself. An “hydraulic
annex” was also tacked on to the building. It contained a tank 60 by 180
feet, with 10 feet depth of water for fishing and bathing purposes. A
portion was fenced off for the preservation and display of “The Falls,”
which the hotel keepers and hackmen of Niagara kindly loaned for the
occasion. The hydraulic rams and other live stock were watered here
every morning, and at stated intervals during the day hydrodynamic and
hydrostatic performances were given in the tank by the pupils of the
“Girls’ Normal School.” The former were very unique.

The consideration for the construction of this building, as per
Commissioners’ report, was $542,300, including drainage, water-pipe,
plumbing, and silver-plated door knobs, but exclusive of interior
white-washing. This, however, was performed gratuitously by Professor
Johnson of the African Commission.

       *       *       *       *       *

Mr. John Rice, a healthful and nutritious builder, was selected to erect
the beautiful


HORTICULTURAL HALL,

which remains a permanent ornament to our park, and an attractive target
for the shots of the young idea visiting the locality. The immense
expanse of glass will doubtless provide innocent amusement to many
generations of young America. May they ever appreciate the kind
consideration which placed the building convenient to a line of soft
rocks, supplying ready-made boulders of all sizes. We believe, however,
that the building is taken in at nights; we know its visitors are taken
in during the day. Some idea of its vastness may be given by stating
that more than 7000 acres of land are situated around it.


AGRICULTURAL HALL,

being of _papier maché_, inlaid with mother-in-law of pearl, was cut out
by steam, and work was not commenced upon it until September, 1875. The
pens for live stock adjoining the building were of steel (a favorite
material in public edifices), and were a part of the contract. They were
fashioned after the manner of the famous floating palace, “Adelaide
Neilson,” of the Noah family. The plans were furnished by the Shemitic
commission from rough drafts now in possession of the descendants of
Admiral Noah.

       *       *       *       *       *

At a late date the


UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT

decided to erect a few buildings, including a hospital. They thought the
latter might come handy in Washington after the exhibition, for
resigning officials. When we first learned that the United States had
obtained 100,000 feet for their buildings, we thought it another display
of persevering frugality. We imagined they desired to save a hardware
bill by using the nails accompanying the material. We discovered that
the feet merely meant the ground for the buildings to stand on.

[A COMPLIMENT TO SAPPHO.]

As the Grecian government had expressed itself too poor to take part in
the Exposition, Mr. Windrim, the architect, was instructed to design
these buildings in the shape of a Greek cross. Through this delicate
compliment, the land where Sappho lived and sung, was represented after
all.

These, with the offices for managers, gas men, stage carpenters, etc.
etc., and some national, state, and special buildings, which may claim
our attention further on, complete the list of structures erected upon
the Centennial grounds for exhibition purposes. Men of all nationalities
vied for the privilege of taking part in the glorious work. The Teuton
and Celt underbid the native American; the co-patriots of Garibaldi did
still better, only to be put to shame in their turn by a Chinese colony.
Ignoring all natural partiality and national prejudice, the contractors,
in a spirit of true republicanism, gave the most work to those who
labored for the least money.




CHAPTER II.

“THE FUEL.”... WHAT THE WOMEN DID.


[Illustration]

[LOVELY WOMAN.]

Nature always provides for emergencies. The world required steamboats
and locomotives, and, lo! a Fulton and a Stephenson appeared to supply
the demand. We craved a means of rapid intercommunication, and Mr. Morse
sat down and invented his telegraph. We experienced a soaring desire to
sail through the air, and George Francis Train stepped forward to
inflate our balloons. So, when a lady competent to organize and
superintend the workings of her sisters, became requisite to the success
of the Centennial project, nature did not desert us. Uprose, as the poet
sweetly remarks,

  “A perfect woman, nobly planned
  To boss an army or a peanut stand,”

and grasping the banner, Mrs. Emma D.E.N. Gillespie became the special
partner of the Board of Finance.

Were we about writing a work in twenty quarto volumes, the kind we have
been in the habit of producing, we might faintly hope to do justice to
the prodigies accomplished by the noble women of America, and especially
by our own Philadelphia ladies. What we do write, however, is the result
of personal observation. Blessed with female relatives _in esse_ and _in
posse_, who have been active members of ward committees since the first
trumpet tone, we write advisedly; having been snubbed, sacrificed, and
made secondary to centennial enthusiasm for three long years, we write
with a proper appreciation of the solemn duty in hand.

The dear creatures travelled up to the State-House steeple; they glanced
around upon the situation; they rolled up their sleeves, metaphorically,
and swooped down upon the city. They canvassed stores and factories from
turret to foundation stone; they invaded dingy counting-houses, and
sauntered like sunbeams into dusty offices, collecting subscriptions to
centennial stock, peddling centennial medals, and doing irreparable
damage to the peace of simpering clerks, blushing salesmen, and
susceptible employers. A single case will serve for illustration. Listen
to the story of


A POOR YOUNG MAN.

[Illustration]

[“NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL.”]

He was an innocent youth, undergoing initiation into the mysteries of
compounding and weighing out sugars, teas, and spices at a West-End
grocery. A Spruce Street damsel did the cruel deed. She visited the
establishment several times in reference to some shares of stock, and
her passing glance sank into his soul. His deep, poetic nature demanded
an outlet for the sacred fire. Ætna will burst; Vesuvius will explode.
Ætna and Vesuvius were but parlor matches compared to him.

The evening succeeding the lady’s third visit to the grocery, a package,
neatly done up in brown paper, was left at her residence by a youth who
vanished upon the instant. The lady untied the bundle, and discovered an
A. No. 1 salted codfish. The following lines, on pink initial note
(slightly greased), were fastened to its tail by a blue ribbon:--

      “My love is boundless as the ocean,
      Deep as its waters my devotion.

        This cod, sweet maid, is salt--
          Salt is the ocean too;
  By logical analogy, therefore, this fish will prove
          Type of my love for you.”

Next evening, about the same time, another package arrived, with another
poetic sentiment in the same handwriting:--

  “I send a can of salmon soused,
      ’Tis sweetness in the sour;
    O, would your smile the salmon was,
      In my forlorn soused hour!”

The lady was somewhat puzzled, though gratified. Her father was somewhat
puzzled, though not gratified. Their quandary was not lessened upon
receiving a third delicate present the next evening.

  “I offer my love two pounds of chipped beef,
    ’Twill be nice for her breakfast or sup;
  O the love in my heart’s not at all like the beef--
    For, sweet maid, _that_ can never dry up!”

“Can’t never dry up, eh?” said the old man the following evening, as he
pulled on his thickest boots, and took up a commanding position on the
front-door step. “Can’t never dry up, eh?--we’ll see.”

But the mysterious messenger flanked him by ringing at the back gate.

  “Sweet maid, sweet maid, O pray accept
    This jar of pickled onions;
  They’ll tell thee of the tears I’ve wept,
    And sighs vent by the ton-ions.

  They’re round, too, like the planet Earth;
    Like earth, my love’s complete;
  May this to sweetest thoughts give birth,
    When of them you shall eat.”

Another evening came; the old gentleman was again upon the step; the
family butcher was sauntering carelessly by the back gate. Alas! in
place of the youth, ’twas the grocer himself who called. The butcher did
not know him; he obeyed instructions. On the day of the unfortunate
man’s funeral these lines were read; they were found in his pocket, and
explain the cause of his inopportune visit:--

  “Sweet maid, sweet maid, I had a clerk,
    A taking youth was he;
  I’ve sent _him_ up to Cherry Hill,
    The _bill_--I bring to thee.”

We will dwell no longer upon this mournful episode, but return to our
main subject.

[ROMEO AND JULIET.]

The ladies of the various ward committees did not confine their efforts
to canvassing. They worked afghans that nobody wanted, and slippers that
nobody could use; purchased desks that wouldn’t open, and pocket-books
that wouldn’t shut, and raffled them off at prices as fancy as the goods
themselves. They appeared in amateur theatricals and variety shows.
Every ward had its Romeo and its Juliet; every precinct its Lady Macbeth
and Wellington De Boots. Their acting was wonderful and awe-inspiring.
Audiences gazed upon them in public with dumb amaze, and wept in
private, they knew not why. People began to look upon tickets for
amateur performances as Japanese officials regard a polite invitation to
“Hari Kari.” Call-boys and scene-shifters at regular theatres set up for
luminaries. The demoralization of the drama was complete.

But all these things were mere side dishes, to be mentioned incidentally
in connection with the combined efforts, viz.:--

“The Great National Tea Party,”

“The Greater International Tea Party,” and

“The Greatest Patent Loan Office Exhibition.”

It is with a feeling of profound diffidence that we allude to them.


THE NATIONAL OR MARTHA WASHINGTON TEA PARTY.

[TOAST AND TEA.]

Under the supervision of their revered sovereign and her executive star
chamber cabinet, the ladies transformed the Academy of Music and
Horticultural Hall into one grand coffee house and sandwich caravansary.
To save the expense of attendants, the aids themselves dispensed tea and
coffee, smiles and gingerbread, bewitching glances and ham sandwiches to
the thousands crowding the vast saloons. They attired themselves in
old-time fashion to look like so many Mrs. Washingtons. Many a family
cheerfully sacrificed its furniture covers to array its daughters in the
style of costume made sacred by Martha. They stuck little blotches of
black court plaster upon their chins, cheeks, and the tips of their
noses, to imitate her venerated pimples, and dipped their heads into
the family flour barrel to make their hair look like to hers.

Each ward represented one of the States of our Union, and the rivalry
between their tables, though good-natured, was intense. At one table
they sold tea made in Martha’s china tea pot; at another table they
dispensed slices from a pie having its edges scalloped by her false
teeth; while a third overtopped all competition and did an immense
business, regaling customers with sausage manufactured from the remains
of her pet poodle. The aids who dealt out this luxury seemed conscious
of the sacred trust. Tears of patriotism dimmed the lustre of their
lovely eyes.

They sold nosegays at the price of small conservatories, but pinned them
on coat lappels without extra charge. They did more. With apparent
cheerfulness, they accompanied male friends to the hall below, where the
band played, and with them hopped and skipped, and glided and dipped, as
if they were really enjoying themselves, and not sacrificing comfort to
love of country.

The pecuniary result of this affair was most gratifying. The Finance
Committee kindly acknowledged this fact to its special partner,
requesting her to do so some more and keep the ball rolling. Yet still
its grandeur was eclipsed, totally eclipsed, by the next great effort.


THE INTERNATIONAL TEA PARTY.

[THIERS ON MOONSHINE.]

Between the two tea drinkings, however, a _Fête Champêtre_ was held at
Belmont, near the Centennial grounds. We wrote to France, Mrs.
Gillespie’s native land, to find out what a _fête champêtre_ meant. Our
respected friend Thiers replied. “You go out,” he wrote, “to some nice
quiet spot. In the evening you hang a few lanterns on the trees, and
leaving the other folks to dance, you yourself wander off with some
‘nearer and dearer one yet than all others,’ to explore the surrounding
country, its shadowed nooks and moonlit glens.” Of course we went. But
somehow everybody else was leaving the others to dance and seeking
moonshine. Never before was there such a demand for nooks and glens
since nooks and glens were first invented.

The _fête_ was a perfect success as far as moonshine was concerned, but
not pecuniarily. The caterer of the evening is wearing away his days in
an insane asylum. Who cares for Champagne when they can have nearer and
dearer ones? Who cares for lobster salad when they can have nooks and
glens?

A second tea party, to retrieve the reputation of the cabinet, was
decided upon. This time, however, instead of representing only our
States, all the nations of the earth were to be typified.

  “No pent up Utica contracts our powers;
  The world’s four boundless continents are ours.

  EMMA R.”

were the suggestive lines with which “General orders 197” terminated.

The aids appeared in the costumes which long theatrical usage has
established as nationally characteristic. For three successive evenings,
a thing of beauty and a joy for Emma enchanted and astounded throngs of
visitors, and would have been continued longer had not everybody
unfortunately run out of small change.

[YE MIGHTY ALPS.]

Each table was adorned by what the ladies fondly believed to be an
unmistakable designating peculiarity. One ward went into business with a
few yards of glazed paper and a Noah’s Ark, and reared up the mighty
Alps. Shem, Ham, and Japhet stared blankly into futurity from the
storied peaks; old Noah and his wife looked around in a bewildered
manner as though wondering what the genesis they were doing in that
locality, while their sheep, goats, cows, elephants, tigers, crocodiles,
and whales jumped indiscriminately from crag to crag.

[Illustration]

An odor of Swiss cheese, from the sandwiches, made the illusion perfect.

The ladies of another ward had ingeniously built a polar bear with an
inner structure of rags covered by variegated cat skins. He was a little
lop-sided, but didn’t seem to mind it. He stood serenely upon a looking
glass glacier, with tail erect, and the Russian flag between his teeth.
The 8th ward (Republic of Lima) made a splendid display of Lima beans,
boiled and in soup. The aids were not afraid to say “beans” to anybody.

But the 21st ward (Isle of Man) carried off the prize. This committee
had secured, at enormous expense, a live specimen of the native. He was
quite docile and harmless; yellow whiskers, and wore eye-glasses. This
table was the Mecca to which all the aids flocked when off duty.

Talk about your heroines of revolutionary times! Bah! Do you suppose
that Moll Pitcher would have donned striped leggings, a gauze flounce,
and a sash around the shoulders, and wandered around like the Amazons in
the “Black Crook,” as did Mrs. Vowl of the 20th ward? Would Mrs. John
Adams, the wife and mother of presidents, pattern of patriotism as she
was--would she have put on spangled breeches and a turban of red, green,
and yellow with a turkey’s feather in front, and trotted up and down the
Foyer of the Academy with a bucket of lemon peel and water, calling it
“sherbet,” and pretending not to notice the excruciating look which
distorted the countenances of the unfortunates inveigled into investing
in a glass and then feeling compelled to empty it? To these questions
there can be but one response. You shall make it.

The result of this festival was also satisfactory to the Finance
Committee and to all concerned. The ladies were encouraged to renewed
efforts. They racked their brains searching for a novel idea, and when
did women rack in vain? They invented a style of exhibition which
produced an effect such as the world had not witnessed since the
Israelites emptied out Egypt. The war trump sounded: “Gillespie” was the
cry. Special orders 774 were promulgated, and that stupendous conception


THE PATENT LOAN OFFICE EXHIBITION

astonished and frightened the land.

[A LOAN--AND FROM HOME.]

Everything was to be borrowed; nothing bought and still less paid for.
The idea was attractive. A wide field was opened for feminine ingenuity.
Each aid immediately locked _her own_ umbrella carefully away, and
called upon her friends when the weather was cloudy.

[Illustration]

The Franciscan Monastery, on Rittenhouse Square, was the largest article
loaned to the Committee, they having declined the offer of a Frankford
brickyard; and in this building the exhibition was held. Three beautiful
gilded balls were extended from the attic window, and on them the
neighboring residents gazed in silent rapture. A great demand was
created for articles one hundred years old and upwards. Old pots, pans,
and dishes were suddenly endowed with incalculable value. We ourselves
worked industriously to produce relics. Our aforementioned relations _in
esse_ and _in posse_, acknowledged the loan of an old brick into which
we had pounded a new bullet, with a fervor which more than repaid our
disinterested patriotism. The sweet smile and kindly glance with which
they accepted a pair of old army breeches, which we had purchased for
seventy cents and riddled with augur holes, haunts us still. Nay, when
we attended the exhibition, and saw an old lady reverently kiss a yellow
handkerchief, which we had borrowed from an hostler of our acquaintance,
and labelled “Lafayette,” we retired to a side apartment and wept tears
of joy. We had afforded that old lady a gratifying reminiscence for the
remainder of her existence.

[GEORGE’S INDIVIDUAL CONTRIBUTION.]

The Washington family came out particularly strong. In a pavilion in the
garden, seventeen aged females were seated. They had nursed little
George in his baby days. With undisguised emotion they exhibited 21
cradles, 66 gum rings, 423 hatchets, and half a bottle of soothing
syrup, all of which, they asserted, had been the property of the father
of his country during his infantile years. They also possessed among
them an aggregate of 34,621 buttons, which they had purloined at
different times from the dear child’s vestment.

This was considered as George’s individual contribution.

The remainder of the family were not behindhand. They sent a few of
their plates, spoons, forks, ladles, etc.; not many, only about enough
to start a first-class hotel. As for family Bibles, they must have had a
sufficient quantity to have allowed each member of the family a new one
every day of the week and two on Sundays. There were chairs and sofas
enough to seat the entire continental army, and about five wagon loads
of miscellaneous furniture and chattels. Heavens, what an establishment
those Washingtons must have kept!

It would be useless to attempt an enumeration of the wonders on hand and
made to order for this occasion. Suffice it to say the ladies borrowed
everything they could borrow, and what they couldn’t borrow they--didn’t
have.

Two rooms were set apart for broken and unbroken china, which (again in
compliment to Mrs. Gillespie’s native tongue) were called _Bric a brac_
apartments.

The exhibition was open to the public for six weeks with a table _à la
carte_ in the dining-room. The net profit was close on to seventy-five
dollars.

And after all this work, after obtaining from them all these ducats,
what did the centennial magnates say to the ladies?

“Ladies,” said they, “we have taken your money; we have urged you to
labor; we have induced you, in the person of our special partner, to
travel to sister cities to persuade the daughters of our land to make a
proper exhibition of their importance and standing in this home of equal
rights; but, ah, unfortunately, we shall not be able to allow you any
space in our buildings; the old women of China, the aged females of
Timbuctoo claim it, and if you want to display that standing and
importance we have mentioned, why--ah--here are plans for a building;
take them, get up a side show for yourselves, pay for it yourselves, and
be--happy.”




CHAPTER III.

“THE COOKS.” ... WHO FED THE FLAMES.

[Illustration]


Our record would be incomplete if we failed to insert a few brief
biographical sketches of some of the personages prominently connected
with the conduct of the Centennial celebration. We regret being obliged
to limit the list to a very few of the many deserving of the honor. The
facts which we relate in regard to them, have been industriously
gathered from many sources probably unknown even to the parties
themselves. Should we succeed in awakening one soul to pure aspiring
action--should we be the means of placing one pair of feet into those
“footprints on the sands of time” which lead to honored greatness--our
labor has not been in vain.


GENERAL JOSEPH NAPOLEON HAWLEY,

the President of the Centennial Commission, was born principally in the
State of Rhode Island, but grew so rapidly that his parents soon found
it necessary to have him hauled over entirely into Connecticut. Here he
flourished and grew fat among the healthy wooden nutmeg groves. He early
displayed unmistakable evidences of genius. At the age of seven, he
invented a tin lightning rod, and a schoolboy’s improved blowpipe of the
same material. For this latter, his teachers passed him a vote of thanks
through the medium of a ruler, and graduated him from the scholastic
establishment. Shortly afterwards he originated the business of
manufacturing paper shell almonds, but sold out advantageously to a
near-sighted relative and entered the Artillery school at Brienne, from
whence he soon meandered to the military academy at Paris. He instituted
the “legion of honor,” won the battles of Marengo, Jena, Austerlitz,
Eylau, Wagram, and some few others, and then retired to the monastery at
St. Helena. Here he took the veil and several other articles, and
leaving, one cloudy night, worked his passage to London. At this
metropolis he mixed freely with the heads of the nobility, opening a hat
store and being appointed “hatter extraordinary” to the Queen. He pined,
however, for the breezes of his native land, and when Columbia called
upon her sons to lend a hand to the Centennial structure, he returned to
America and was elected President of the commission.

His bravery and prowess are equalled only by his genial nature and the
style of his moustache and imperial. Of him the poet Horace (Greeley)
has said,

  “Though always ready to smile with a friend,
      He never was known to re-treat.”

Some of his enemies recently nominated him for Congress. Their sinister
designs failed, however, and he will happily remain for some time longer
an ornament to society and a credit to his country.


THE HON. ORESTUS CLEVELAND,

[OH REST US.]

Vice President of the commission, was born, when quite an infant, in the
State of Ohio. He gave such promise of future greatness that his native
city was named after him.

He was the eighteenth child of his parents, and was, therefore, called
Orestus. The name was suggested by the friends who had been acting as
godparents for the family. He must not be confounded with the Orestes
who murdered his ma and was afterwards killed by the bite of an Arcadian
serpent; he is quite a different sort of an Orestes.

Through life he has been noted for his culture and refinement. These
qualities he owes to his father’s care. The old gentleman made a point
of polishing him off regularly twice a week during his youth.

He always displayed a remarkable fondness for school. He could often be
found there an hour after all the rest of the pupils had gone home. His
teacher was especially fond of him. “Frequently,” said she to us, with
tears in her eyes, “frequently did I lay him across my knee to more
readily display the affection with which I regarded him.”

When he was not at school he was engaged in the noble work of repairing
and paying for the window panes his companions had smashed; in replacing
fruit upon the trees from which they had stolen it, and in going to
church and praying for their regeneration.

His manners always continued engaging. Unimpressible police officers
have been known to form an attachment for him, the more remarkable as he
never encouraged their sociability.

After essaying many learned professions, he finally concluded that his
_forte_ lay in the profession of being a rich man. He bought a farm near
Camden, planted Kelley’s patent inflation bill, and raised money in that
primitive fashion. After passing the meridian of life in honor and
righteousness, the devil put evil thoughts in his mind, and he embraced
the legal profession, to which he is still united.

His front elevation is very imposing. His face is somewhat in the
Corregio style, with Roman nasal appendage and Grecian earwings, doing
much credit to the architect who designed him. He is finished with a
double action expanding chest, with corrugated windpipes, and he stands
on two seventeen inch pedestals cased in patent leather. He was on
exhibition during the entire continuance of the exposition.

Of the early days of


MRS. EMMA D. E. N. GILLESPIE,

but little is accurately known. Though historians agree upon essential
points, there are many of those conflicting side issues which always
arise from a multiplicity of traditions. We know, however, that at her
birth she was taken under the especial patronage of the Fairy
“Bookotheopera,” who endowed her with all the virtues in that fairy’s
_repertoire_, and presented her with a beautiful purple pincushion with

  ~“Welcome, Little Stranger,”~

blazing in the brass heads of the pins which it contained. It is still
in her possession.

[CENTENNIAL MYTHOLOGY.]

She has performed many noteworthy deeds in addition to those connected
with the Centennial. ’Tis true, she never fooled with asps or indulged
in pearl cock-tails like Cleopatra; nor did she act as a spy during the
war like Major Charlotte Cushman, but her quarrel with Neptune
concerning the right of giving a name to Cecropia (_Horat._ 1, _od._
16), deserves as much attention as either of the above performances.

The inhabitants of Taurica offer upon her altars all the strangers
wrecked upon their coasts as a mark of their appreciation of her efforts
in establishing the American line of steamers (_Apollod._ 1, _c._ 4,
etc.), and though her resentment against Paris (the son of Mr. Priam)
was undoubtedly the cause of the Trojan war, yet the myrtle and the dove
have ever been considered her most sacred emblems. Her ride upon the
white bull is as famous as Sheridan’s ride to West Chester, and her
patronage has been so extensively claimed by artists of all sorts,
especially such as painters, carpenters, white-washers, and tea
importers, that the poets have had occasion to say--

  “_Tu nihil invita dices, faciesve Mrs. Gillespiebus._”

To her, more than to any one other individual, is the success of the
celebration due. We have remarked her executive ability, and the manner
in which she directed the nymphs of her train, and it is our candid
opinion, that nobody could have been found or invented, to fill more
perfectly a position involving so much annoyance, so much mental and
physical labor, so many petty anxieties, and so comparatively little
general appreciation. There are some debts which cannot be paid. We put
that owing to her upon the list.


GOVERNOR BIGLER,

the Financial Agent of the Executive Committee, passed his early youth
among the vine-clad hills of Bucks County. He was brought up a sturdy
farmer’s lad. Day after day, in the hot sun of noon, he stood erect in
the centre of the cornfield, the terror of the devastating crow.

[SWEET WILLIAM.]

He was not called “governor” at his birth; his name is William; the
former title he acquired later in life when he married a governess.
Willie was very popular in the country school which he attended during
the winter evenings. Upon several occasions his master bestowed a cane
upon him, which token of desert he received with a few powerful and
eloquent remarks and tears in his eyes.

His nature was always affectionate. He would never visit a young lady
the second time unless he could kiss her “good-bye” the first time he
called.

Artless to a fault, he never knew the use of wigs until after he
married, and it is said that he never acquired his second teeth until a
few years back.--He couldn’t have got them then if he hadn’t paid fifty
dollars for them.

Despite his gentle nature, however, his physical strength is immense.
His prowess in the amphitheatre, his speech to his brother gladiators at
Capua, and the able manner in which he defended the wire bridge against
Mr. Porsena, of Andalusia, are favorite themes with every American
school-boy.

After the revolution he had his sword cut down into a set of shoemaker’s
tools, and followed the cobbler’s peaceful pursuit, until the Centennial
committee demanded his time and services. For this he gave up
everything. He cheerfully immured himself for a time in the St. Nicholas
Hotel, New York, living on rye bread and wheat whiskey, and enduring all
sorts of hardships in his endeavors to collect subscriptions from the
Dutchmen of Manhattan. He came home, however, in time to tack the roof
on the main building.

Should he again take to mercantile life in our midst, we cordially
recommend him to our friends for “invisible patches.” His name will ever
be high upon the list of the best beloved sons of the Keystone State.

As


MR. DANIEL J. MORRELL,

[A SECOND DANIEL COME TO JUDGMENT.]

the Chairman of the Executive Committee, was changed while an infant in
his cradle, and the child of his nurse substituted for him in order to
obtain possession of the chateau and estates, we were not thoroughly
satisfied that he was entitled to any biography. We called upon him to
ascertain what he knew about himself, and were disappointed to find that
he was not very well up upon the subject.

We found him a man of fine appearance. He has the eye of a hawk, the
nose of an eagle, the hair of a raven, and the cheek of a Colossus of
Rhodes--with which he expects some day to start a museum. We informed
him why we had called, and at once commenced a list of questions which
we had taken the precaution to prepare.

“As a youth, sir, were you gentle, with a sweet disposition?”

“A sugar refinery, gentlemen, wasn’t a circumstance to me.”

“Were you always gay and cheerful and generous beyond measure?”

“I was.”

“Were you ever in love?”

“I decline to criminate myself.”

“Well, Schiller loved once, Goethe many times, which do you consider the
most natural?”

“The latter, decidedly.”

“Were you ever jealous?”

“Once.”

“How did you act towards the cause of this feeling?”

“Smothered her with a pillow.”

“Oh, then, you could be a Othello?”

“I could be twenty Othellos; but, gentlemen, as this style of procedure
is evidently fatiguing to you, suppose I relate my story without
questioning, eh? James, a bottle of champagne and a box of those
_victorias_ for the gentlemen.

[Illustration: “YOUR MONEY OR YOUR LIFE.”]

“I was born,” he continued, “on the Island of Borneo. My mother was a
decendant of the noble Italian family of McLaughlini; my father was also
of noble birth; he never walked afoot; he always drove a carriage--for
the man who owned it. Cast upon the world at a tender age, I went to
England and took up my residence on Hounslow Heath--maybe you’ve heard
of the place. Always of a playful disposition, I invented a pretty
little game called ‘Your money or your life,’ which I taught to all the
lonely travellers who passed my neighborhood, to cheer them on their
way. They generally used to leave me their pocket books, watches, and
whatever valuables they had about them, so gratified were they with my
attention. The Royal Family soon heard of me and despatched a regiment
of guards to conduct me to London. Naturally modest, I endeavored to
avoid this distinction, shunning a meeting with the deputation as long
as I possibly could. At last I found myself compelled, as it were, to
accompany the party. I was conducted to a grand stone building of
immense proportions and solidity of design, in which, apartments had
been prepared for me. From thence I was introduced at Court, and, upon
the suggestion of the Lord Chief Justice of England, the apartments in
the granite building were placed at my disposal for six months, after
which time he desired me, in the name of the government, to address a
public meeting of citizens and officials from a raised platform, in
Newgate Yard, hinting that the address would be followed by my immediate
elevation to a high position. My sensitive nature shrunk from this
display. Not wishing, however, to offend the gentlemen delegated to
attend me, I remained quiet as to my plans for avoiding it until the
opportunity I waited for offered. Then, weaving my bed clothing into a
rope, I let myself down through the chimney and hurried home to America,
without saying adieu to them. They were sorry to lose me, and offered
quite a large reward for my return if living, or my body, if dead,
designing, no doubt, in the latter case, to give me a grand funeral. But
I have ever preferred a quiet private life to the elevation they
tendered me. That is all, gentlemen.”

“We are obliged to you, Daniel; good morning.”

“Good morning: but recollect, gentlemen, I am entered according to the
Act of Congress, in the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, and any
infringement will be punished according to law; you understand? Good
morning.”


THE HON. ALFRED TIMOTHY GOSHORN,

Director General of the Exposition, was born in the State of New Jersey.
This was, however, without collusion upon his part, and no one more
sincerely regrets the circumstance than himself. His father cruised
about the Spanish main, from Burlington to Gloucester. Some folks called
him a free-booter; he was only this, however, when young Alfred
misbehaved himself or the tide ran the wrong way. Our hero was a very
promising lad. He was ever ready to promise anything. He was of a
domestic turn of mind and could generally be found in the vicinity of
the kitchen, especially when cakes and pies were in process of
preparation. After a course of studies at Yale, Harvard, Princeton, and
Cornell, his parents transferred him to a public school to acquire the
arts of reading and writing and the rudiments of arithmetic.

Early in life he joined the temperance movement, but resigned when he
grew too big to parade with the cadets. He adopted the profession of the
law, and rose as rapidly as a schoolmaster from a tack-lined chair. He
was appointed minister to the court of St. James. He preached there
until the Saint moved out of the court, and he then took entire charge
of the Crystal Palace Exhibition of ’44, after which he swam across the
Hellespont and returned to Philadelphia.

An aunt in Cincinnati died and left him a large pork sausage
manufactory. After entering into a contract with the Philadelphia
dog-catchers, he moved West to take possession of, and run the mill. He
assumed a leading position in the city’s trade, was made president of
the Commercial Exchange, and in this capacity was selected as director
of the Cincinnati Industrial Exhibition.

[THE RIGHT MAN.]

This double experience made him of course the most available citizen to
take charge of the Centennial Celebration. The manner in which he
performed the arduous duties of the office, and their effect upon his
once robust constitution, may be conceived if the reader will but glance
at Gutekunst’s latest photograph of Timothy, which may be found, full
length, upon the back cover of this volume. He is going into the sausage
business again to recuperate.

[WELL DONE, OH RARE OFFICIALS!]

Taken altogether and without exception, we may feel justly proud of our
countrymen and women who labored so faithfully for the honor of our
common nationality. We trust our country may be as blessed in noble
hearts, generous souls and gifted minds, at her next Centennial
Anniversary, and that we may all be here to meet them.




CHAPTER IV.

“THE LOOKERS ON.” ... WHO CAME TO BE WARMED.


[Illustration]

Early in 1876 the actual hard work of the Commissioners began. During
the months of February, March, and April, they were kept busy day and
night, receiving, sorting, and arranging the goods forwarded for
exhibition. The Adams Express Company ran its wagons directly up to the
back door of the buildings, but as usual left all the packages on the
sidewalk. It was a goodly, a grandly beautiful sight, to behold the
Director General carrying huge packing boxes upon his shoulders while
the dew of honest toil coursed adown his noble brow, or to look upon the
great Orestes heaving bags and bundles to Willie Bigler, who stood in
the doorway and caught them on the fly. The boys of the District
Telegraph Company stood around watching the exhilarating sight, only
finding tongue in their admiring wonder to encourage the gentlemen with
kind remarks and well-meant advice. Many Foreign Commissioners were also
on hand during this time. To look upon their varied costumes was
suggestive of the grand army in a spectacular drama, with the managers
short of uniforms; to listen to their varied tongues was suggestive of
the building of Babel’s tower.

The daily travel to the Park and the vicinity of the buildings was
immense. Thousands hurried thither regularly to see what they could pick
up. Broken china, Japan ware, German silver, French glass, half Spanish
cigars--nothing came amiss.

[LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN.]

The Market Street Passenger Railway Company reduced fares to five cents
to catch the bulk of the traffic. Next day the Chestnut and Walnut
Street line lowered their rates to four cents, carrying bundles free and
no questions asked. The Race and Vine Street Company, appreciating the
situation, carried passengers for three cents, presenting each one with
a chromo of the Bridge across the Delaware. This was but the beginning
of the famous tramway war, which continued with variations during the
entire Exposition. Before its close the Market Street line was paying
passengers seven cents apiece to ride with them, while the newly
established “People’s Line” presented each patron with four shares of
stock and a night’s lodging in their spacious depot.

But the city, ah, the city! It really seemed as if everybody who
proposed attending the Exposition had resolved to be present at its
opening. Every nook and corner, highway and byway, where a tired
stranger could rest his wearied head, was engaged, taken up,
appropriated; and those dilatory ones who delayed securing
accommodations (notably some of the most distinguished guests) were
obliged to pay the penalty of their procrastination.

Imagine it to be the month of May. According to a popular fallacy this
is the month of flowers and gentle zephyrs; according to Jayne’s almanac
it is a first-rate time to take one of his excellent remedies for
invigorating the system.

On the tenth day of this month the Exposition is to be opened. The city
has cut entirely loose from its Quaker traditions. It is clad in
banners, flags, garlands, arches, and emblems. Many private residences
are painted to represent the American flag; numerous clothes-lines offer
to the breezes various shaped streamers of red, white, blue, and
orange-colored flannel. All the lamp-posts have been silver-plated;
every telegraph pole has been varnished; every wire enamelled. For weeks
the inhabitants have not gone to bed. An ingenious invention in the
shape of an inflatable pocket-pillow enables them to take standing naps
against walls, buildings, and fire-plugs.

The guns at the Navy Yard continually herald distinguished arrivals. The
streets are thronged with citizens, tourists, American and foreign
officers and soldiers, the advance guard of every country to be
represented. ’Tis like an animated waxwork exhibition. Receptions,
banquets, and serenades are of hourly occurrence.

Many side streets are converted into airy lodgings. Families have rented
out their door-steps, charging double price when their door-mats are
used. A new industry has arisen, and hostlers are deserting the stables
to carry shaving water for, and attend to the visitors thus
accommodated. It is a common thing, on the way down town in the morning,
to pass an early riser making his toilette under difficulties, while a
lazier companion snores away complacently with his head against the
alley-gate.

The seventh day of the month was one to be remembered with pride
forever. Early in the day the Chevalier De Lafayette arrived with the
gentlemen of the French Commission and secured quarters at the “Guy
House.” In consideration of his ancestor’s great services, the
proprietor rated the Chevalier’s board at six hundred francs per diem,
and as a delicate compliment to his national feelings, assigned him an
apartment in the French roof. Before he departed the Chevalier
ascertained to his complete satisfaction why this hotel was called the
Guy House.

[Illustration]

On the evening after their arrival, a reception was tendered the
Chevalier and his companions by our citizens. Col. Fitzgerald was
selected to deliver the address of welcome on account of his Parisian
manners, the elegance of costume which distinguishes him from his
fellows, and for his general epileptic fitness. We give a report of his
speech copied from the “City Item” of the succeeding day. We are,
therefore, prepared to vouch for its correctness.

[LA BLESSING DE MON PERE.]

“_Messieurs_: God bless you all; you are noble men; we are all noble
men; a noble man’s the honest work of God. God bless Paris; God bless
Philadelphia--they are both noble cities! May He bless the _Champs
Elysées_; may He bless the _Column Vendome_; may He bless the _Hotel de
Ville_, and, _entre nous_, while we are upon this subject, God bless the
_Abattoir_. (Great applause.)

“_Parlez vous, Messieurs_ (laughter), I greet you all. I stand before
you a relic of the past--of a noble past--of a gigantic past--of
a--a--_sacre a la pain et fromage_ (increased laughter)--God bless the
past! (Cheers.)

“_Ate fif tesix five_: General Grant is a great man; he is a good man;
he is a noble man. In his name I bid you welcome. God bless General
Grant, our noble President, our Chief Executive. (Cheers and applause of
five minutes’ duration.)

“The press, _Messieurs_, the press! I represent that gigantic instrument
of civilization. I have a family devoted to the press. Should supplies
of printers’ ink give out, they would spill their dearest blood to keep
it running. _Je suis_, pardon me, _Messieurs_, if I pause to bless them
(cries of ‘do,’ ‘do’). God bless them all! _Ate fif tesix five._
(Immense applause.)

“I greet you as brothers, _eau de vie_. I have been to Paris. I have
visited the _Pont Neuf_. I have stood on that bridge at midnight, I have
gazed at the flowing tide, with the shining stars above me and my family
by my side. (Cheers.)

“I have walked along the _Champs Elysées_:--

“Noble walk!

“Glorious promenade!

“I have looked upon the _Column Vendome_:--

“Magnificent monument!

“Sublime creation!

“I have examined the exterior of the _Hotel de Ville_:--

“In short, _Messieurs_, I have been to Paris; ’tis no more than just
that you should come to Philadelphia. (Laughter and applause.)

“Philadelphia and Paris! (Cheers.)

“Paris and Philadelphia! (Cheers.)

“Noble cities!

“God bless you all. _Ate fif tesix five._ (Paroxysmal applause.)”

The Chevalier responded in very fair French. He was attired in his
national costume. He wore a Lyons velvet coat trimmed with Valenciennes
lace, a white Marseilles vest, and French _papeterie_ knee-breeches; his
hair was powdered with Paris white. Later in the evening the Commission
was serenaded by the German Singing Societies. They executed the
_Marseillaise_ with great spirit and effect.

[DIE WACHT AM DELAWARE.]

The same day the junk of Prince Kung, the Regent of the Orphan of the
Sun, the Child Emperor of China, arrived in the Delaware. The vessel was
brilliantly illuminated with Chinese lanterns, and a band of native
musicians discoursed sweet music from the forward poop upon their wooden
accordeons and pipes of reed. The Prince was a lantern-jawed sort of an
individual with a candle-wicked eye. He and his suite were met by a
delegation of laundrymen at Poplar Street wharf. Sam Wing, Esq.,
extended them an invitation to attend an opium banquet next day at the
hall of the Bedford Street Mission.

While this reception was in progress up town, the firing of guns and
ringing of bells announced the arrival of the Imperial German
Commission.

Fifty thousand German citizens lined Walnut Street dock and the floating
palaces in the vicinity, and no sooner had Prince Bismarck and his
comrades touched land, than they were lifted bodily into several of
Bergner & Engel’s beer wagons, which were in waiting. The crowd,
removing the horses from the wagons and the bungs from the kegs
provided, proceeded to draw both the wagons and the beer. Previous to
starting, however, Alderman McMullin, who had been delegated for the
pleasing duty by the German Society, spoke briefly as follows:--

“Respected Dutchmen: The proudest occasion of my eventful career is the
present--to be permitted to welcome to this new world, this republic of
an hundred years, the flower of the great German Empire under auspices
so favorable and inspiring. Not even when marshalling the once famous
‘Moya’ to do battle with the devouring element, consuming in its fury
the massive storehouse, the busy factory, the domestic hearth--aye, and
life, dear life itself--not even when the bullet of the assassin found a
resting-place within my weakened frame, did I experience the thrill of
sublime pride, the glorious impulse of friendship and common humanity,
which now animates my being. For know there is between us a bond of
sympathy which the boundless intervening ocean cannot sever. William is
my name, and it is likewise the name of my respected friend, your
honored sovereign. Like me, he is simple in his tastes; like me, he is
renowned for his courage and determination.

“I desire that you should carry home with you a high opinion of our
manners and institutions, and many, very many, pleasant reminiscences of
your visit. I trust we shall meet frequently and become quite sociable
during your stay. I invite you all to dine with me to-morrow.”

Prof. Max Müller responded, with the accent of a Latin grammar.

“Mr. Mickmullion, and gentlemen,” said he, “I thank you for this welcome
in the name of the Emperor, his Highness Prince Bismarck, my colleagues,
and myself. For years have I desired to visit this country for the
purpose of making a geological examination. During your eloquent remarks
I have taken the opportunity of analyzing a handful of the soil. To my
intense gratification I find it to average a conglomeration or
semi-crystalline gneissoid of dark brown hematite, or, perhaps, a
combination of barytes manganese with carbonate of strontia. You will
frequently notice that the debituminization of these silicious
formations will degenerate in quality--at times ferruginous layers of
volatile diorite form component parts. I have no doubt that you, Mr.
Mucksquillion, have frequently arrived at similar conclusions.

“So, again thanking you for your kind reception, I assure you I
appreciated the finish of your remarks.”

[OUR BOYS--FRITZ AND WALES.]

Prince Bismarck was then taken in charge by Archbishop Wood, who had a
hammock swung for him in the Cathedral. “Unser Fritz,” the Emperor, and
the commissioners were driven to the German Hospital. They declined
communication of any kind, save an underground communication with
Bergner and Engel’s Brewery. In the evening, however, they were
serenaded by the _Société Française_. “Die Wacht am Rhein” was sung with
much feeling.

On this eventful day the Hon. Morton McMichael presided professionally
at four banquets.

The day following this is also one to be looked back to with
gratification. The Irish Rifle Team arrived with the dawn, and was
greeted with a beautiful sunrise, very cleverly arranged by Professor
Jackson. The team acted as escort to the Prince of Wales and suite.
Since his return from India, the Prince had been in rather reduced
circumstances. Although scrupulously clean, his coat was somewhat
threadbare, and his beaver gave evidence of frequent brushing.

His Highness and suite were quartered at the house of the Spring Garden
Soup Society; the team secured accommodations at a first-class livery
stable.

These distinguished guests were received by General Franz Sigel, who
remarked that he was glad to see them looking so fresh and green; that
he liked fresh and green folks to come to this country. He advised them
all to come back when they went home and get naturalized. He said that
the ladder of Fame was waiting for Irishmen, and all they had to do was
to come and climb. He wanted them to carry home a good opinion and leave
as a remembrance the contents of their wallets. His remarks were
received with hearty cheers.

Wales suffered considerably during the trip over. He says the company of
the riflemen completely demoralized him. He might say he was half shot
when he was half seas over.

About noon the Spanish delegation arrived in Jersey city. They landed
from the ferry boat in high good humor. The commission, composed of the
_elite_ of Spanish chivalry, included the following distinguished
names:--

Senor Concha Maduro.

Don Felix Estra-Maduro (cousin of the above).

Count Flor Del Fumar.

His Highness Reina De Victoria, and

Don Regalia De la Palma.

These gentlemen proceeded quietly and unostentatiously to their rooms on
the seventh floor of the Colonnade Hotel. They were waited upon by the
leading cigar dealers of the city, who offered their spacious
establishment as headquarters.

Towards night the Duke of Gloucester and Red Bank arrived at South
Street wharf. He had an apartment reserved for him on top of the
Christian Street Shot Tower, to which he repaired at once.

Pere Hyacinth came on the same vessel, and was taken in charge by the
Horticultural Society. They lodged him cosily in the southeast corner of
the State-house steeple. He says he liked his lodgings very much, but
the rarefaction of the air was such that he could hear his watch ticking
all night long.

The Emperor of Brazil arrived at a very late hour and bunked temporarily
back of the main chimney of the Girard House.

[THE “ALMS HOUSE” REGISTER.]

The following guests registered at the Alms House.

Victor Emanuel of Italy, wife, three masters and three misses Emanuel.

Mr. Khedive, of Egypt, with seven Madames Khedive. Family left at home.

Professor Tyndale,--London.

Joseph II. of Austria, wife and mother-in-law.

General Von Moltke, Prussian Army. (He had unfortunately missed the
train which had brought his copatriots, and was very warm upon his
arrival.)

Mr. McMichael presided at seven banquets this day, at one of which he
read a telegram from Queen Victoria, accepting with thanks the
apartments kindly tendered her by Engine No. 10.

Next day, the 9th inst., the city’s pulsometer was at fever heat.

Brigham Young and family arrived from Utah per Centennial R. R. special
train, forty-four cars. Brigham said he wanted to give the little ones
an excursion. They were located under sheds at Point Breeze Park.

On this evening, too, a most remarkable event occurred. During the day
the City Solicitor of Philadelphia, who is also a military commander of
renown, in addressing a meeting of some of his contemporary warriors,
including Bismarck, Von Moltke, MacMahon, and others, remarked that he
would meet them upon the morrow at Memorial Hall, during the opening
ceremonies. Immediately a special meeting of city councils was convened,
and the following preamble and resolutions presented and unanimously
adopted.

“WHEREAS, An International Exposition was held at Vienna, in the year
1873; and WHEREAS, upon the day the City Solicitor of Philadelphia
carried into effect his predeclared intention of visiting said
Exposition the roof of the buildings fell in, doing great damage and
causing great excitement; and WHEREAS, the same City Solicitor has
announced his purpose of visiting our Centennial buildings to-morrow;
and WHEREAS, it is our bounden duty to provide against the occurrence of
any like disaster to our International Exposition, and especially from
the same cause which affected the Vienna affair, be it hereby

“RESOLVED, That the interests of the Exhibition demand the incarceration
of the individual above alluded to.

[ON ICE.]

“RESOLVED, That he be immediately placed in irons and confined in the
vaults of the Knickerbocker Ice Company until the close of the
Exposition.

“RESOLVED, That every attention be paid to him in his confinement, and
that the Knickerbocker Ice Company be allowed $93.77 per diem for his
support and the ice required to keep him cool.

“RESOLVED, That he be produced for one hour each Wednesday morning at
the Supreme Court Rooms, to deliver opinions on municipal affairs, that
the city may suffer no more than necessary from this unavoidable action.

“RESOLVED, That he be supplied with the ‘Times’ newspaper daily, and be
allowed unlimited rations of lemons, sugar, and whatever liquid he may
desire, to mix with his ice.”

At four o’clock in the morning, the subject of these resolutions was
awakened from his innocent slumbers and hurried into a Knickerbocker ice
wagon by detectives, with black masks over their faces. He struggled
bravely, but--_pro bono publico--principiis obsta_.

[Illustration]




CHAPTER V.

“THE CRACKLING.” ... PREPARATIONS FOR THE BLAZE.


[Illustration]

The morning smiled bright, and the mist rose on high, and the lark
whistled “Hail Columbia” in the clear sky, on the tenth day of May,
1876, the day set apart for, and consecrated to, the opening of the
Centennial Exposition.

Old Probabilities himself was in the city, with his weather eye open.
Early in the morning he fixed the barometer in front of McAllister’s at
“set fair,” arranged the thermometer at 65°, and engaged a refreshing
southern breeze to be around lively during the entire day. After this he
ate his breakfast, enjoying a quiet conscience and a correspondingly
good appetite.

Shortly before daylight a very curious incident occurred--fortunately it
ended happily.

[OH SHAH, WHAT A FUSS!]

The Shah of Persia, his son John, and the Sultan of Turkey, arrived
together at Broad and Prime Street Depot. The city being weary of
receiving dignitaries, no official and but little private notice was
taken of their arrival. They jumped into a Union Line car. Unthinkingly,
the Sultan put a dollar bill into the “Slawson box,” and then demanded
his change from the conductor. Of course, the conductor was unable to
open the box, and refused to give it to him, telling him he deserved to
lose it for his stupidity. The Sultan became furious.

“My change,” he cried; “I want my change, and I’m going to have it;
seven cents for me, seven cents for the Shah, and four cents for little
Shah, that’s eighteen cents; give me eighty-two cents change. You can’t
cheat me, you swindling Americans!”

Again the conductor refused and remonstrated; the Sultan was perfectly
wild with rage; he drew his scimetar, and caught that conductor by the
throat, and there would certainly have been an immediate vacancy for a
conductor on the Union Line, had not Mr. McMichael been just then
returning from a late banquet. Mr. McMichael, being a sportsman, was
thoroughly conversant with wild turkey gobble; he smoothed matters over.
He refunded the eighty-two cents from his own pocket, took the Eastern
monarchs home with him, and afterwards secured them a bed in the coal
cellar of the House of Correction, apologizing to them because they were
obliged to share it with Mr. Carlyle, the English essayist.

[Illustration]

The Egyptian Sphynx, kindly loaned by the Khedive, also arrived in the
morning, and was at once placed in position on Belmont Avenue. We regret
being obliged to record the disgraceful fact, that it was entirely
carried away in small bits by relic fiends before night. The Khedive
immediately presented a bill of damages to the President, and levied on
the Exhibition buildings _in toto_, the Capitol at Washington, and Mayor
Stokley’s house on Broad Street. Happily the matter was amicably
settled. The President promised the Khedive that Congress should have a
new Sphynx made for him, a much better one than that destroyed, of
bronze, and with all modern improvements. The order was subsequently
given to Messrs. Robt. Wood & Co., of Philadelphia, and before the close
of the Exposition they shipped to Cairo a bronze Sphynx, which will
certainly add greatly to the attractions of the desert. We doubt not
that the Messrs. Wood will receive orders for bronze Pyramids, provided
they will take the old ones in part payment.

[Illustration: THE MODERN SPHYNX.]

[AND HIS RHYME, IT WAS CHIL-DLIKE AND BLAND.]

The proprietor of the _Public Ledger_ was so pleased with the Sphynx
which our Philadelphia firm turned out, that he immediately ordered a
duplicate for his back garden. He also composed the following touching
lines for the poet’s corner of his journal. A copy of them, translated
into Egyptian characters, was sent to the Eastern potentate with the
Sphynx:--

      “Egypt had a little Sphynx,
        It was her pride and wonder,
      She sent it to Amerikay,
        Where it was knocked to thunder.

      This ’ffliction sore, poor Egypt bore,
        Her grief seemed all in vain,
      Till one as good was made by Wood,
        And Egypt smiled again.

  Gone to take the place of the
  ORIGINAL ONE.”

The great feature of the day was


THE PROCESSION,

the march from Independence Square to the Exposition grounds. We shall
endeavor, in brief style, not to do justice to, but to give some slight
account of the grandest pageant which any nation has yet witnessed in
its midst.

[BENJAMIN’S COAT.]

The immense body, consisting of representative military from every
nation under the sun and in the shade, was divided into two hundred and
forty divisions, each with a commanding general and aids. General
Joseph E. Johnston, of Georgia, was to have been Grand Marshal. His
uncle Andrew being dead, unfortunately, he was obliged to have his only
military coat repaired by a tailor who was not punctual, and who failed
to express it to him in time. General Butler, of Massachusetts, however,
who happened to have two coats with him, very kindly loaned one to
Johnston, who appeared in the afternoon. Attached to the back of the
loaned garment was a neat show-card, bearing this inscription--

  ANOTHER BRIDGE
  ACROSS THE
  BLOODY CHASM.
  THE TRIBUTE OF
  MASSACHUSETTS
  TO
  GEORGIA.

[Illustration]

The General was lustily cheered wherever he went, and General Butler was
the subject of more praise during this day, than during any portion of
his life subsequent to his occupation of New Orleans.

The position of honor, the First Division, was given to the Philadelphia
regiments by a unanimous vote of the generals of divisions.

Col. Hill and Dale Benson led off with his command, which appeared for
the first time in its new uniform. The immense black fur muffs, which
the members borrowed from their sisters and wore upon their heads, gave
them a very ferocious appearance, though most of their noses were
completely hidden from view. Company “C” attracted particular attention.
It had adopted a new “hop” for marching, which was both graceful and
unique, though evidently fatiguing.

The “State Fencibles” turned out in fine style. With their accustomed
liberality they presented arms to all the pretty girls they met on the
way. The “City Troop” brought up the rear of the division. These
warriors were arrayed in all their awful panoply of war--white ties and
white kid gloves, with gold _vinaigrettes_, containing salts and
extracts, dangling from their belts. Their horses were also supplied
with _vinaigrettes_, which they sniffed occasionally in lieu of their
usual odor--the smoke of battle. The Troop carried a magnificent banner,
inscribed--

  FIRST IN PEACE--FIRST IN WAR--
  AND
  FIRST IN THE HEARTS OF THEIR
  ~Countrywomen~.

And, on the reverse side--

  PRESENTED TO THE
  CITY TROOP OF PHILADELPHIA
  BY THEIR
  LADY FRIENDS AND ADMIRERS,
  AT THEIR
  FIRST ANNUAL PICNIC,
  SCHUYLKILL FALLS PARK, JULY 1, 1872.

The Pennsylvania Veterans, G. A. R., marched in the centre of the
Second Division, and a moving incident occurred as they passed by the
Mint near Broad Street.

The first distinguished warrior to appear was Colonel Mann, the hero of
~0007 fights, mounted upon the gallant steed which had borne him safely
through them all. Along the route, his iron front proudly erect, his
bronzed and battered features flushed with the nobility of a natural
pride, he was greeted by the enthusiastic cheers of the assembled
thousands. Maidens from beyond the seas--officers (no mean heroes
themselves) from the armies of the old world, joined in the gracious
tumult. One bald-headed veteran (a Marshal of the Windsor Castle Guards,
who had left a leg at Balaklava, an arm at Waterloo, an eye in the
Crimea, and who expected to distribute the rest of himself upon various
other battle-fields before he died) turned to the Chevalier De
Lafayette, who with Senator Sam Josephs occupied the barouche with him,
and asked--

“Who is passing, Chevalier, that the people appear so excited?”

“_Quely vous motre dio_, do you really not know?” exclaimed the
Chevalier, “Zat is, _graciosa poverisi_, zat is ze Kunel Mann,
_pardieu_, ze great Kunel Mann.”

[THE PET OF THE POPULACE.]

“What!” shouted the veteran, and pulling from his coat the diamond order
of “St. George and the Dragon fly” which blazed among an hundred others
upon his breast, he rose in his coach and flung it gracefully to the
Colonel, who caught it quite as gracefully upon the fly. At this moment
a great shout arose. The populace imagined that a shot had been fired at
the Colonel, that an attempt had been made to assassinate their pet
hero. The mob rushed for the carriage which contained the veteran, with
cries of “kill him,” etc. etc. The Colonel took in the situation at a
glance. Rising in his stirrups he spread wide his arms to show he was
uninjured.

“Hold,” he shouted, in that same voice of loud and deep toned beauty
which oft had brought the briny tears to eyes of hardened criminals in
the dock, “Hold; he is my friend: he has given me this badge (‘Cape May
diamonds,’ he added _sotto voce_); who touches a hair of his bald head,
dies like a dog--march on,” he said.

The cries for vengeance changed to wild cheers of joy, and the
procession moved on.

The Foreign Divisions followed the Pennsylvanians in rotation adopted by
lot. The Caledonian club was a marked feature of the English Division
among which it was numbered, being the only representation from
Scotland. The members appeared in full Highland costume, kilt, sash, and
checker-board stockings. The chiefs danced the Highland Fling all along
the route to the inspiring strains of the regimental bagpipes. The
company of Orangemen with their Lemon aids was also a part of this
division; they were commanded by Col. Terrence McDougall.

The brigade of French Chasseurs in the Fifth Division, commanded by
Marshal Benzine, presented a splendid appearance, and wore the strings
of doughnuts which were thrown around their shoulders with a truly
fascinating French _abandon_.

The “French Lancers,” in the same division, danced the quadrille named
after them at each lamp-post along the line.

A number of survivors of the late French war were carried along in Sedan
chairs. This must have been a sad sight for Frenchmen. We are not
Frenchmen.

The German Landsturm soldiers were artistically decorated with pretzels
and oranges. Their division was preceded by the Emperor William and his
family, drawn in one of the ambulances of the German Hospital, the
horses being appropriately decorated with German and American bunting.

The Austrian Grenadiers (division seventy), carried a miniature hydrant,
emblematic of temperance; also an open Bible on a velvet cushion.

The Centennial managers were somewhat annoyed by the appearance in line
of a commission from the African interior, which insisted on taking part
in the procession, or eating the Director General. They marched along in
their native costume, consisting of a skewer through their back hair.

[Illustration]

[GOSHORN’S NOBLE RESOLVE.]

Of course _they_ were not aware of anything out of the way in their get
up, but Mr. Goshorn said that rather than have the thing occur again, he
would sacrifice himself on the altar of propriety, and be eaten. His
brother commissioners encouraged him in this resolve.

Immediately after the Foreign Divisions, came the “National Centennial
Guards,” formed of companies from the thirteen original States. They
were headed by Generals Grant, Sherman, Butler, and Hartranft, and were
followed by the Centennial Commissioners in barouches.

The Commissioners were paired off with foreign civil dignitaries and
potentates. The Prince of Wales was inveigled into a carriage with two
of our city officials: he left for home next day. Queen Victoria (his
mother) enjoyed the society of the Chief of the Fire Department: she
remained until the close of the Exposition.

One carriage was cheered vociferously. It contained Vice-President
Wilson, Mr. Jefferson Davis, Simon Cameron, and Robert Toombs.

The American divisions, which included companies and regiments from
every State and city in the Union, succeeded the barouches. A great many
of these organizations brought their own bands with them, or as the
saying is, “blew their own horns,” but many others depended upon the
well-known musical resources of Philadelphia. They discovered that
delays were dangerous. They had to do the best they could.

The “Duquesne Greyhounds,” of Pittsburgh, were preceded by Signor
Maccaroni’s band--two harps and a female violinist, while the
“Charleston Fusileers” were obliged to fusileer to the strains of seven
jews-harps, kindly volunteered by juvenile American talent.

A noticeable company was the “Palmetto Guards,” of South Carolina,
dressed in dusters and straw hats, and bearing palm-leaf fans. The
“Ancient Artillery,” of Boston, thorough sons of guns, every man of
them, also attracted much attention. Their step was the Boston glide.

The “Norfolk Blues” and the “Virginia Carbuncles” entered upon the march
with highly polished rifles and well filled canteens. Their rifles were
still highly polished when the march was over.

The “Seventh Regiment,” of New York, composed entirely of officers, was
much applauded. Its discipline was apparent in its style of marching and
the waxed moustaches of its members.

The brigade of American Indians was under the command of General
Sheridan. The warriors were conveniently and economically uniformed in
blankets. Each chief had his initials plainly visible upon the corner of
his blanket. By a strange coincidence, almost a fatality, the initials
of the name of every man in the brigade were the same letters--U and S.

[Illustration]

[THE “LITTLE DEARS.”]

The “West Point Cadets” were also in line. They made a peaceful and
pleasing show with their little tin swords and wooden guns. They looked
very neat too, clean faces and well-brushed hair showing that they were
tenderly cared for. Their jackets were buttoned tight up to their necks.
The ladies were charmed with them, and “little dears,” “sweet, ain’t
they?” were the expressions heard on all sides. Much sympathy was
expressed for them on account of the great length of the route--entirely
too long for children to traverse. The cadets were to have remained
during two weeks of the Exposition, but they got to eating unripe
cherries from the trees in the Park, and falling into the Schuylkill
River, so the Commissioners were compelled to send them home.

The “Naval Cadets” were marshalled under Secretary Robeson. This old
salt was arrayed as Neptune, with a trident in his hand, and a crown of
real sea-shells upon his aged, weather-beaten brow. The cadets were
taken care of during their stay by a file of marines.

The procession started at 10 o’clock, and by two P. M. one-half of the
main body having passed the Continental Hotel, the head of the
procession reached Memorial Hall, while the tail was wagging here, there
and everywhere, about the sacred shadows of Independence Hall.

At Memorial Hall, amid the salvos of artillery, the pealings of bells,
and music of the band; the hymns of the singers, and the cheering of the
vast, innumerable multitude, the

  CHAPLAIN OF THE UNITED STATES SENATE

ascended the decorated pulpit.

[SILENCE.]

Mayor Stokley stepped forward. Tear-drops glistened in his translucent
orbs. He raised his arm; his hand, so used to threaten and command,
implored silence. In a single moment the firing ceased, the bells pealed
no more; the last echoes of the hymns were carried heavenward upon the
gentle breeze; the people ceased shouting, and a holy, solemn silence
reigned supreme.




CHAPTER VI.

“THE FIRE.” ... WHO FLARED AND HOW THEY DID IT.


[Illustration]

Amid this profound silence the Chaplain proceeded to inform the Lord for
what purpose that great concourse of people was assembled.

He intimated that as “the earth was the Lord’s and the fulness thereof,
and as the United States of America formed a part of the earth, and its
citizens frequently gave evidence of the fulness thereof, it was
eminently proper that He should not be kept in ignorance of its doings.”

He quoted freely from Scripture to convince his hearers that man was not
all-powerful, but that, sooner or later, he must needs leave country,
home, greenbacks, office, and corner lots behind him.

Alluding to the nations of olden time, he aired his classical learning.
He informed his hearers that Greece and Rome were not now exactly what
they had been, and mentioned likewise that Romulus and Mr. Julius Cæsar
had both been dead for some time.

He also remarked upon several interesting historical facts of more
modern date, which he seemed to think might possibly have slipped the
memory of the angels,--namely: that a number of European countries were
governed by potentates; that some of these had not been all that
virtuous, peace-loving men could have wished them; that an assembly of
individuals had pronounced freedom to be the prerogative of all
mankind;--then, after commending Mr. Grant and his cabinet, Mr. Stokley
and his city council, Mr. Goshorn and his associates, to the good graces
of the heavenly host, he complimented that body on having the truest
republic yet organized, and retired gracefully from the pulpit.

The orchestra of ten thousand selected musicians then executed Haydn’s
magnificent “Oratorio of the Creation,” after which Mr. Ulysses S.
Grant, who as President of the United States was chairman of the
meeting, arose and made one of his powerful and eloquent
addresses:--“Ladies and Gentlemen,” said he, “I hope I see you well. I
am glad to see so many of you around me on this occasion. It is a very
pleasant occasion. Like the century plant, it blooms but once in a
hundred years. A good many of you, who I see around me on this occasion,
will not be around when it comes around again. I thank you, ladies and
gentlemen, for the manner in which you have received me, and I will make
room for a longer winded man than me. I hope you will listen to him with
attention. I thank you again, and hope you will all enjoy the
exhibition. Allow me to introduce to you the orator of the day, selected
by the Centennial Executive Committee.”

The building shook with the applause of the assembled multitude, and
when the clamor had subsided, the orator began his address in a stirring
appeal to

THE GENIUS OF LIBERTY.

[THE EAGLE SHRIEKS.]

“Ring out, ye bells, ye harbingers of liberty, ring out! The world is
hushed to listen to your joyful pealings,--the heavens open and swallow
up your golden sounds! From where the sun first breaks upon Columbia’s
slopes to where the rain-drops thunder in supernal night,--where eagles
scream and dash their pinions ’gainst the crags and peaks which blaze in
midday splendor,--where, rushing through the crimson sky, they swell the
notes which drown the shrieking gale, and flashing arrows of electric
light, piercing the groaning depths of chaos, echo beyond the shadow of
eternal hills the cry of nature’s soul, the thrilling anthem--LIBERTY!

“It is our throne--the pedestal on which our building rests! a century
agone its bed was hollowed out by pithy arms, now resting in the dust.
Oh sturdy hearts! Oh honest hands! Beyond the boundaries of space and
time, where Nature’s seedlings bud, and waters gather in a mighty deep,
to thee, to thee we look through tears we dare not hide, and glimmering
in the phosphorescent radiance of a holy past, we cry aloud, and loud
the answer comes. The waves dash high, the breakers roar, the bright bow
spans the clouds above, when lo, forth springs in brilliant splendor,
our flag--the emblem of our dearest hopes,--our pride, forth springs in
glorious purity, our flag,--the stars and stripes,--the flag of Adams
and his son John Quincy.”

At this stage of the proceedings, four hundred ladies uttered a
simultaneous scream and fainted. The gallant orator, descending from the
rostrum, helped to carry and lay them upon the greensward without, where
members of the Fire Department promptly saturated them with a portion of
the Schuylkill River. Then, taking a hasty draught of Bowers’ Centennial
Mead, the orator re-entered the hall and resumed his address. Not one
of the audience had left--during the interim they had been nicely
entertained by the Director General (always prepared for emergencies),
who gave them a comic song and dance.

[Illustration]

In resuming, the orator alluded to the Garden of Eden. He explained how
the “S” became added to the name of Adam, and drew a pleasant word
picture of the illustrious founder of his family in his fig-tree suit.
He spoke for two hours in an interesting manner, and concluded.

The chorus then joined in the national anthem, “Pop goes the Weasel,”
after which the

POET OF THE OCCASION,

[LONGFELLOW.]

America’s sweetest singer, who touches with his gentle hand the
heart-strings of the world, waking them to musical response as pure and
truthful as his own blessed soul, stepped forward, and read his original
poem, which will live forever, a mile-stone of the nation.

The people listened with rapt attention to the words of the honored
bard. He seemed inspired; his voice was full, and each syllable he
uttered reached every corner of the immense building. We caught the
words and pinned them to our note-book in phonographic characters as
they were given birth, and we reproduce them here complete and
unabridged.

[FOREVER AND FOREVER.]

A SONG IN TWO VOICES.

_First Voice._

  The silent horologe of time, which varies never,
  Hath swept into the bosom of that sea
  Pulsating ’gainst the rock “Eternity,”
  The life-blood of an hundred years,
        Forever and forever!

  But crimson blood upon the Ocean’s wavelets, never
  Content beneath the surface smooth to hide,
  Will traces leave enrubying the tide,
  Till earth in chaos disappears,
        Forever and forever!

  We gaze upon a restless sea, which quiets never,
  And read as on a changing, moving scroll,
  The nation’s living, cryptogamic soul,
  Which Death’s dark lantern lights and clears,
        Forever and forever!

  They are our own, these dead we look upon, though never
  Have we full guessed the good which passed away;
  To know what we were losing day by day,
  Would be, methinks, to live in tears,
        Forever and forever!

  Then listen, brothers, for my failing voice may never,
  Be heard again throughout our fatherland;
  And e’en the pen drops from my feeble hand,
  As my long journey swiftly nears,
        Forever and forever!

  List while I read to you the graven tale, which never
  May be all told by these poor lips of mine,
  For coming ages still add line to line,
  Till earth no longer heeds nor hears,
        Forever and forever!

_Second Voice._

  Speak, speak, thou dismal guest,
  With gloomy thoughts oppressed,
  Speak quick and give a rest,
        To those who hear thee:

  Much pleased we’ve read the lays,
  Writ in thy youthful days,
  Giving no stint of praise,
        Aiming to cheer thee.

  Proud of thy fame are we;
  Therefore most graciously,
  For what it’s worth will thee,
        “Our poet” christen:

  Long, long will live thy verse,
  As will, too, much that’s worse,
  And if thou wilt be terse,
        Brother, we’ll listen.

_First Voice._

  In the old colony days in London, the chief town of England,
  In the cellar which runs to and fro ’neath the Parliament building,
  With a pipe in his mouth and a match in his hand, made of sulphur,
  On a keg of dry powder was seated Mr. Guy Fawkes awaiting the signal.
  Above was King George with a sword in his hand at a table,
  Drinking green tea, which he always had made “with a stick,”
  While up by the urn, stood a beautiful Puritan maiden,
  With sweet, smiling eyes like the bloom of the bluebells in summer,
  Who opened her mouth, and with laughing lips uttered this question,--
  “My liege, would you like just a little bit more of gunpowder?”
  Guy Fawkes was discovered and hung, and his body was cast in the
    Tiber,
  King George wasn’t blown up just then--but not many years after,
  His tea was the match which ignited the spark, and gave him some few
    more gunpowder.

_Second Voice._

  Tell us not in furlong numbers,
    What we know as well as you,
  Though you’ve got things mixed up “somewurs.”
    King George wasn’t Cromwell too.

  Life is short and time is fleeting,
    And we fear, if you intend
  To go on old tales repeating,
    We shall never reach an end.

_First Voice._

[ABORIGINAL POETRY]

    Kajo, kajo, mudjekewiss,
  Jeebi ishkoodah jossakeed,
  Shinghé, shingebis shah shuh gah;
    Chibiabo bukadawin,
  _Wahonowin! Wahonowin!_
  Totem totem ahkosewin,
    Minehaha, haha, haha,
  Ha ha, ha ha, ha ha, ha ha.

[FAIR COLUMBIA.]

_Second Voice._

  Thank you, sir.

_First Voice._

  Nation of our hopes and prayers,
  Time steals by us unawares,
  Gravestones seal our joys and cares.

  We must leave thee whilst thou’rt young,
  Whilst the bell for freedom rung,
  Echoes still from heart to tongue:

  Standing on Oppression’s tomb,
  In thy youthful beauty’s bloom,
  Monument of tyrants’ doom;

  Gazing with a lofty pride
  O’er thy hearthstone, boundless, wide,--
  Oceans washing either side;

  Towns and cities, hills and vales;
  Earth with joy thy Queenship hails,
  Seas and rivers bear thy sails!

  Fair Columbia, we must go,
  Far beyond thy oceans’ flow,
  Far beyond thy mountains’ snow;

  Other sons will ’bout thee rise,
  Love thy blue and starlit eyes,
  Love the white thy life flow dyes:

  May their hearts’ love never leave thee,
  May they dream no thoughts to grieve thee,
  Never of a star bereave thee;

  May the olive in thy hand
  Spread until its branches grand
  Shelter safely all thy land;

  And as days and years are told,
  May thy brilliant flag enfold
  Strength which never groweth old.

  May the world beneath the sun,
  In the freedom thou hast won,
  See a boon denied to none.

  For a gift from God thou art,
  Missioned bravely to impart
  Sunshine to the sunless heart.

This poem was telegraphed, word for word as spoken, to the “New York
Herald,” appearing in that sheet next morning. From its columns it was
copied, the week after, into the Philadelphia journals.

After the poem, Messrs. Arbuckle and Levy, the cornetists, played “Old
Hundred.” It proved a great success, as it had never before been
attempted--in a horn.

The Massachusetts gentleman selected for the honor, then read an essay
by Thomas Jefferson, entitled

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

[AN APPRECIATIVE PRESIDENT.]

This production was replete with witty sayings and wise aphorisms,
doubtless very applicable to the time in which it was written, but
somewhat obsolete and wanting in point at present. The soda-water
fountain was much patronized during this portion of the ceremonies.
General Grant sat it out, however, and mentioned afterwards that he
considered it one of the finest things he had ever listened to. He
inquired particularly concerning the author, and seemed disappointed
when informed that he was dead. He would doubtless have enjoyed making
Thomas a revenue inspector or an Indian commissioner.

Again the combined orchestra and chorus howled forth. This time it was
“Paddle your own Canoe.”

Mr. L.Q.C. Lamar, of Mississippi,

ORATOR OF THE DAY NO. 2,

stepped forward. He remarked that as it was growing late he should not
detain them long. At this, those favored ones to take part in the
banquet concluding the ceremonies, brightened up wonderfully.

The orator then proceeded to say that this was the first centennial
celebration in which he had taken part; he therefore hoped that any
shortcoming might be overlooked in consideration of his quick going. He
remarked that he came from where the Mississippi wound her silvery
length through rich green fields, by thriving towns and mighty cities;
that he was a native of the Sunny South, those happy realms where
nightingales tuned harmonious song and alligators sported in their
lukewarm baths. He mentioned that this was a great country, that the sun
rose in the East and set in the West, and that while the snow-flakes
fell and whitened all the northern plains, the orange bloomed and gentle
breezes blessed the southern groves.

“We are but travellers here,” said he, pathetically, “and while we
breathe the air and walk upon the earth, we have two duties which should
command the energies of our minds, the strength of our arms, and the
honor of our souls;--one, to our fathers, those who have gone
before--the other to our children, those who have already come and those
yet to come after.” Mr. Lamar did not exempt bachelors from the latter
of these duties, but in eloquent language urged upon all the great
mission of an American citizen.

The orator continued for three hours, and ’twas only when darkness fell
and the chambermaid came in to light the gas, that he concluded; telling
his spell-bound listeners, that, although he had much more to say, he
would remember his promise to be brief, and postpone the remainder of
his address until the next centennial, hoping that in the mean time they
would ponder well upon the truths which he had uttered.

General Sherman here nudged the President, who had fallen into a gentle
spell-bound doze, and who, awakening with a start, rose and said:--

“And now, by virtue of authority in me vested, I, Ulysses S. Grant,
President of the United States of America, do declare this Exhibition
open for the transaction of all such business as may be legally brought
before it.--Amen.”

The musical fraction ended up with Beethoven’s Twelfth Mass, and “Little
Brown Jug” for _encore_, and thus was the

INTERNATIONAL EXPOSITION

inaugurated.

Through the courtesy of the Centennial Managers, we were supplied with
copies of several odes, poems, essays, etc., forwarded to the committee
by various distinguished authors of this and other countries, and
rejected for reasons best known to the committee. Of these we cannot
refrain from inserting a contribution from Lord Alfred Tennyson. It is
in the shape of a two-act drama, entitled

“GEORGE W. WASHINGTON.”

[CLARA’S NEXT ROLE.]

It has been pronounced by competent judges to be equal to much that
Shakspeare did not write. It has been translated into the celestial
tongue, and will be produced during the next century at the Theatre
Royal, Hong Kong. We understand that Miss Clara Morris is studying the
_role_ of G. W. Washington.

ACT FIRST.

  SCENE--WINTER QUARTERS AT VALLEY FORGE. _The American Army sleeping on
  the left side of the stage. Delaware River flowing in the rear. Seven
  42-pounders pointed towards the audience (to be discharged if they
  leave before the curtain falls). A full regiment of cavalry ready to
  issue R. I. E. Practicable window in flat._

  THOMAS JONES, a farmer, and SAMBO, Washington’s servant, discovered.

SAMBO.

  You may not enter--the General snores in sleep;
  Sweet sleep, that balm in heaven distilled,
  Has fallen on his eyelids.
  (Sings) _Low, galoot; speak low, galoot, or you may wake him--
  Low, galoot, low!_

FARMER JONES.

  Yet listen, gentle knave; a farming man am I
  From Jersey. Should’st open now my heart,
  Lo, thou would’st find but two words graven on it--
                          Trenton and whiskey!

[THE PLOT THICKENS.]

SAMBO.

  (Sings) _Low, galoot; speak low, galoot, or you may wake him--
  Low, galoot, low!_

FARMER JONES.

  The keystone of our government is shattered,
  The Hessians are in Trenton!

SAMBO.

  Methinks some traitor spoke. ’Tis not yet lost.
  Send out, send out the constables,
  And have them all
  Arrested. Egg Harbor is not taken yet?

FARMER JONES.

  (Joyously) Egg Harbor is not taken yet!

SAMBO.

  Then there is hope. But, hush!--he’s here!

(_Washington enters through window and listens._)

FARMER JONES.

  Who?

SAMBO.

  Our General--great George Washington!

FARMER JONES.

  Oh!!

  [_All exit. Curtain falls._

ACT SECOND.

  SCENE--STATE-HOUSE AT PHILADELPHIA. _Continental Congress in session,
  John Hancock in the chair; representatives ground around; large
  concourse of citizens in the hall; the back window open, through which
  a view of Independence Square in flat. Procession passing with flags
  and banners, and band of music. A political meeting in the Square;
  also a few Indians lassooing buffalo. Eagle screams as curtain rises._

  JOHN HANCOCK. Ah!

  ROBERT MORRIS.Indeed!!

  THOMAS JEFFERSON.Possible!!!

  JOHN ADAMS.Very remarkable!!!!

  [_Exit all the representatives except_ BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

[GRAND DENOUEMENT.]

  FIRST CITIZEN. Shall we go too?

  SECOND CITIZEN. Go to!

  THIRD CITIZEN. For which we should be thankful.

  [_Exit all the citizens._ FRANKLIN _alone_.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

  From Jersey, New York, Delaware, and Pennsylvania,
  Virginia, Massachusetts, and both the Carolinas,
  These men have come who have but just gone out.
  There’s Hopkinson, and Middleton, and Harrison,
  And William Ellery, George Taylor, and Josiah Bartlett;
  Morton, Walton, Joe Hewes, and Willie Hooper,
  And many more; and I am left alone--
  No!--here come Roger Sherman, Gerry, and George Whytte.

(_Milkman sings without._)

           _“Bully for you, Susie,
              Bully for you now,
            To go and milk the water pump,
              ’Stead of the cow.
            Chalk is very cheap,
            Milk is quite a heap,
  Healthier when diluted than it came from the cow.”_

FRANKLIN.

  I wish I was a milkman; methinks it is a better
  Business than being a philosopher--
        Ah, gentle friends, what news?

(_Enter_ ROGER SHERMAN, GERRY, and GEORGE WHYTTE.)

SHERMAN.

  Washington has crossed the Delaware!

(_Chorus outside_) [_many voices_]. “Washington forever!”

GEORGE WHYTTE.

  Lo, he will be our President!

(_Shouts again_) [_many voices_]. “Three cheers for Washington!”

GERRY.

  Who knows?

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

  Let us pray.

(They all kneel, and the orchestra strikes up “Yankee Doodle” as the
curtain drops.)




CHAPTER VII.

“THE REFLECTIONS.” ... SHADOWS, SHAPES, AND THOSE WHO MADE THEM.


[Illustration]

“You are standing, sir, directly upon the equator.” Our country cousin
jumped aside in terror; his face grew white, his knees trembled, his
hair stood on end. It was our first visit to the Main Exhibition
Building after its opening, and he had accompanied us.

“Great Heaven!” he gasped, “why did they leave it around here--is it
dangerous?” and he backed into an Italian brigand who was strolling
leisurely along, “it oughter be in the zoological department,” he added,
and peered around for a glimpse of the animal.

We smiled pityingly.

[THE NORTH POLE REACHED AT LAST.]

“The equator, our dear cousin,” said we, “is that broad chalk line
marked across the floor of the building. It represents the centre of the
earth. Here, take the glasses;--now observe,--that main mast or
telegraph pole, painted white and decked with ribbons, which you see at
the extreme end of the avenue, is a very complete _fac-simile_ of the
North Pole. Now, turn around;--that clothes prop (kindly loaned by Mrs.
Forney) represents the South Pole. At one end, to speak poetically, we
have Greenland’s Icy Mountain, at the other, Mrs. Forney’s Coral Strand.
Let us take a cursory glance of what lies between.”

We do not propose to give more than the merest superficial account of
the wonders and glories of the great display. Everywhere the eye rested
it was dazzled with jewels, silver, splendor, and--and--so forth.
Striped gauzes, magnificent bronzes, burnished armor, superb laces, fine
inlaid work, unique carvings, rich and rare fancy goods, musical
instruments, books, acres of useful articles, miles of ornamental
productions, food, clothing, and--and--more so forth.

Perhaps it would be best for the intelligent reader to imagine himself,
or, more happily, herself, in our pleasant company, cousin and all. But
first a word of warning to the intelligent reader. After many sleepless
days, the managers had decided to arrange the nations in geographical
order, as far as possible--and to leave the rest to Providence.
Therefore the intelligent readers will do well to follow the example of
the intelligent authors, and forgetting any geographical knowledge they
may happen to possess, leave their rest to Providence also. They will
spare themselves many sudden shocks and annoying perplexities. Such, for
instance, as this: taking one avenue straight along and passing
consecutively through Austria, South Sea Islands, Manayunk, Siam, China,
Morocco, Beverly, Egypt, Darby, France, Switzerland, and Tipperary,
ending up with Turkey and the Sultan ready, soap and towel in hand, to
give the visitor a specimen of his luxurious patent bath. Or, coming
back on the other side, to find in one long line, Germany, Sweden,
Norway, England, Iceland, Doylestown, Ireland, British America, Media,
and in the corner Japan, where a Mandarin and a Womandarin perform “Hari
Kari” every day to illustrate the custom of the country,--the same
parties, however, only appearing once in the same performance.

Naturally, our own country claims our first and best attention. From
Maine to Florida, from Boston to San Francisco, State after State, city
after city, makes its display. In addition to the separate and peculiar
exhibits of the States, clusters of identical interests from North,
South, East, and West, attest the resources and development of our land.
Let us pause for a moment and examine the display of the

[POPULAR TABLEAUX.]

AMERICAN BANKERS’ AND BROKERS’ ASSOCIATION,

which will serve for an example of these latter.

We find the credit system very cleverly demonstrated. A working man
enters into a banking house with his month’s earnings nicely tied up in
the corner of his handkerchief: a blandly smiling clerk, with well pared
nails and laundried linen, receives it and notes the amount in the
depositor’s account book;--the workingman departs. Then the proprietor
enters, gives a portion of the money to his clerk and puts the remainder
carefully away--in his pocket. In another apartment, the projectors of a
railway company offer a graceful financier one-half of their beautifully
printed stock certificates, on condition that he floats the other half.
A widow, with the money which she has just received as insurance upon
her husband’s life, comes upon the scene. She makes known to the banker
her anxiety to invest this money securely for the benefit of her
helpless family. He magnanimously spares her a portion of the railroad
stock, charging her but a small commission for his services. With the
balance of his stock as collateral, he borrows money from a national
bank and makes a corner in flour. Through the window of this apartment
there is a beautifully arranged vista, showing the banker building a
magnificent villa and settling it upon his wife. A third compartment
contains the closing tableaux:--a meeting of assignees declaring a
dividend of nothing, payable in twelve, twenty-four, and thirty-six
months, and the banker stepping on board of an A, 1, steamer, to pass
the remainder of his life in ease and luxury among the wonders and
beauties of the old world. In this department also, we find a collection
of the coins of our country, at which its people look in amazement. A
father is endeavoring to explain to his son, a boy of twelve, what these
gold and silver pieces were once used for. It is an interesting study in
ancient history for the lad, but he is doubting as youth is apt to be,
and does not appear thoroughly satisfied that they were ever current
money.

We push our way rapidly through the States. Maine has her liquor law,
charmingly framed--but we find her Commissioners in Kentucky drinking
Kentucky lemonade. Vermont exhibits a green mountain boy; the look in
his eye belies his color. Massachusetts presents her genealogical tree.
Rhode Island is represented by an immense specimen of inflated bullfrog.
New York has on hand her canal ring, blazing with diamonds. Pennsylvania
has her Switchback. Delaware another kind of switchback--her whipping
post, and here we delay our progress to admire hers. Great bodies move
slowly, and the Delawareans have great bodies--but mighty little souls.
Their “stocks” are up, however, and they don’t seem to care. We suggest
that the Governor of the State and the members of the Legislature be
thrashed alternately every hour, to give a general idea of the _modus
operandi_ to foreigners. Our suggestion is not received in the spirit in
which it is offered.

But we do not succeed in completing our trip through the Union this day.
Our country cousin brings us to a stoppage by his absurd conduct.

[MISTAKEN HOSPITALITY.]

One exhibitor offered him half a pound of mince meat: he devoured it. A
Connecticut woman presented him with a small cheese, her own
manufacture: it followed the footsteps of the meat. In Massachusetts he
received a package of corn starch: he put it serenely where he kept his
cheese. We looked upon him in amaze, but said nothing. A New York
merchant handed him a small cake of transparent shaving soap. “My
golly!” he remarked, “this beats a lunch route,” and he swallowed it
whole. A New Jersey farmer offered him a string of dried apples: they
went the way of his preceding receipts. A Pennsylvania matron begged him
to try a draught of her buttermilk: he complied, and we saw him swell
visibly before our eyes. Two ounces of Virginia Baking Powder was the
next tribute: he winced a little at this, but--down it went. We tried to
stop him, but too late--he just chewed a small stick of South Carolina
stove polish, and then the baking powder accomplished its fatal mission.
He mentioned that he did not feel very well. We expressed surprise and
sympathy. He said he felt worse, and then he tried to smile, but alas,
the apples lay heavy on his soul--he couldn’t. He asked if it wasn’t
time to go home--he said it was a splendid show, but he thought he’d
seen enough of it.

“Come home,” said he, “its dinner time.”

“Why,” we replied, “you’re not hungry, are you?”

He didn’t answer; he turned a reproachful glance upon us. We were now in
Georgia, and a colored man held out to him a sweet potato pudding.
Savagely he turned upon that negro, his eyes rolled wildly, he labored
under intense emotions, mingled emotions of cheese, soap, and baking
powder, he uttered one long despairing yell and sank down upon the
floor. A crowd gathered about him in a second; two or three officials
pushed their way through the assemblage and grabbed hold of him. “The
first case,” they cried triumphantly; “carry him to the Hospital.” They
bore our poor cousin to the

GRAND INTERNATIONAL HOSPITAL,

east of the Main Building, and we followed in tears.

A Turkish physician ran to meet us as we approached the structure. The
Turks believe in radical cures--this one wanted to smother our relative
between two feather beds. We objected. Two Chinese doctors stopped us at
the doorway. One wanted our cousin to swallow three green lizards, the
other recommended the immediate extraction of all his front teeth. An
Indian medicine man here commenced dancing around us, yelling at the top
of his voice, and banging an old tambourine with the shin-bone of an
ass.

This was nothing! When we entered the building the international
surgeons came down upon us like--like--like “a wolf on the fold.” This
was the first case, and they were spoiling for a job. Our cousin looked
in their eager and varied faces, he gazed upon the assortment of cutlery
flashing around him--his lip quivered--he closed his eyes--and fainted.
In less than two seconds that

UNFORTUNATE COUNTRYMAN

would have been dissected, and the doctors engaged in mortal strife
above his severed limbs, had not a most diabolical uproar outside
suddenly distracted their attention.

We all rushed to the grounds, and a blood-freezing scene of terror met
our eyes.

[“LONE SHIRT” ON THE CHINESE QUESTION.]

Mr. Lone Shirt, Mr. Full o’ the Rye, and Man with the Seven Big Bunions,
Esq., the Chiefs of the Indian encampment, had been illustrating their
native customs by a sudden

RAID ON THE CHINESE LAUNDRY.

They had attired themselves in the napkins, towels, and nightcaps there
contained, painted themselves with the washing blue, burnt down the
building, and were just about finishing up things by scalping the
startled celestials when we burst out upon them. The Chinese doctors
took one glance at affairs, swallowed their lizards, and jumped into the
lake north of Machinery Hall.

The Exhibition Military, led by the Marine Cavalry, hurried towards the
fearful scene. Would they be in time? The tomahawks of the Indians were
raised, their hands grasped firmly the pigtails of their victims--when
suddenly--behold!--The savages grew rigid as though turned to stone,
motionless they stood with tomahawks still elevated, their hands still
pigtailentwisted--Oh providential chance!--They had swallowed the
starch contained in the laundry, and this stiffening was the fortuitous
result.

The managers released the half dead Chinamen, and pointed out to Messrs.
Lone Shirt, Full o’ the Rye, and Man with the Seven Big Bunions, the
impropriety of their conduct. When the chieftains thawed limber, they
promised solemnly not to repeat anything of the kind, and smoked the
liberty bell pipe with the laundrymen.

This incident saved our cousin’s life. When we returned to the hospital,
he had vanished, much to the sorrow and chagrin of the disappointed
M.D.’s.

We did not feel like returning to the Main Hall immediately after this.
We thought a stroll through Memorial Hall might be soothing to our
system, and so we took it.

Philadelphians familiar with that

CHAMBER OF HORRORS

in old Fairmount Park, which the Park Commissioners persist in styling
an Art Gallery, have been bred up to a proper appreciation of the
“pageant which rose like an exhalation” before our admiring eyes; upon
others, especially foreigners, the effect must have been tremendous.

It is not our intention to criticize the pictures separately, or to draw
invidious comparisons between the work of our own and other artists.
Courtesy to our late visitors forbids it; and besides, the national
peace must be preserved at any cost. We must admit, however, that it
struck us that a number of the paintings might have been improved by a
liberal paring at the nails from which they were suspended. Some of the
Italian sketches looked to us as though they had been painted with
raspberry jam. The _chiara oscura_ effect, so to speak, was visibly
heightened by the tone of the sombre shades, and the clever intermixture
of the mediæval style with the ante-Raphaelite touches--the extreme
fulness of the light and motion, and the mellowness of tint, produced,
as it were, in the minds of _connoisseurs_ like ourselves, the
comparison which we have made.

Artists, like fishes, go in schools. Masters, pupils, janitors, scrapers
out, and pot boilers. They were all well represented, Flemish, Dutch,
Italian, French, and American schools making the most extensive report.
We will mention a few of the biggest paintings in the handsomest frames.

[“MURILLO AND RUBENS--PAINTING AND GLAZING.”]

Mr. Murillo, a Spanish painter and glazier, sent--in addition to his
famous “Madonna”--“The Parable of the Seven fat and Seven lean Cows.”
This was a six-foot-square job. The seven fats were done in oil--the
leans in water-colors.

Rubens was represented by a magnificent head of “Vasco De Gama;”--his
feet were too large to frame. The likeness was excellent. Even a
stranger, unacquainted with Mr. De Gama, could have recognized it at
once--by the name in the corner.

A fine painting of Marat, executed by Miss Corday, was the biggest
little gem in the French collection.

France also sent some sacred paintings, among them “St. Anthony’s
Temptation” and “St. Vitus’ Dance.” Great Britain also had two sacred
companion pieces--“Christ before the Priest” and “Christ after the
Priest.”

In the American Department, a superb work entitled “The Salary,”
appealed most directly to our feelings. It could not have been drawn
with more ease by a Vandyke or Paganini.

“Wm. Penn treating the Indians” occupied a prominent corner.

“The Empty Jug” was a pathetic masterpiece, a subject which came
directly home to the hearts of many who looked upon it.

For square inches and lavish extravagance in paint, “The Norsemen
landing at Vineland, New Jersey,” deserved a prize.

Scores of virgins of all styles and sizes adorned the walls. Virgins
clad in every costume worth mentioning, and a great many not worth
mentioning. They were consigned by the Angelo Factory at Rome.

The sign and fence painters of the United States school made a very fine
display.

Rothermel had his patent “S. T. 1860 X.” beautifully done in white-wash
on the south wall of the building, and Moran, who pays more attention to
marine work, had “Sea-weed Tonic” tenderly drawn in blue and gold.
Bierstadt, the architect, sent a plan for a model brewery.

We felt so completely soothed after seeing this much that we didn’t
enter the statuary department. We left that for another day, and jumping
on a horse-car we made our way over to

MACHINERY HALL.

Imagine all the machinery the world contains in motion at the same time,
and add about five million more machines to that. This will bring you as
near the truth as this volume ventures to approach.

Fire, smoke, sweat, and labor; whirring and whizzing, banging and
clanging, pounding and puffing, tinkling and jingling. One would think
there were seventy thousand horses at work instead of the forty we have
mentioned. Everything is being manufactured here--from a tooth-brush to
a locomotive; from a latch-key to a wash-boiler. Each workman at a
machine is attended by another man placed there expressly to answer
questions and be interrogated by visitors. These latter men are carried
away and revived every hour.

The famous individual who took a prize at the Paris Exposition, is here
with his wonderful machine. You give him a live rabbit, and in fifty
minutes he returns you a felt hat and a Welsh stew.

[THE UNDERLAND ROUTE.]

Keeley’s Motor was set up here a few days previous to the opening of the
Exhibition, but somehow the machine got loose and knocked things into
splinters. It dashed through the main entrance, got on the track of the
Market Street cars, rushed clean down to the foot of Market Street,
destroying everything in its way, and plunged into the Delaware River
just eight seconds after leaving Machinery Hall. Workmen were put at
dredging for it immediately, and before they gave up hope of recovering
it, a telegram was received from Pekin, saying that it had passed
through the Emperor’s palace, carrying the roof with it, and vanishing
into space. From the hour telegraphed as the time of this occurrence,
it was calculated that the machine landed in China just nineteen minutes
after it left Elm Avenue. Mr. Keeley ascribed the cause of this freak to
one drop of water too much, being in the reservoir.

There was another sort of motor on exhibition, however, which seemed
especially attractive and novel to the boys. It consisted of nine strips
of leather attached to a wooden handle.

The improved hotel front-tooth-picker was an object of attention in the
American department, as was also the automatic hen for laying egg
plants.

The patent American awning post rest, a neat pair of extended arms to
support a reclining form, was much remarked; and a patent range,
“warranted to save half the coal,” was very well spoken of: you buy two
of them and you require no fuel at all.

Herring’s Hay Making Machine, for making hay in cloudy weather, and
Rollin’s improved Iron Pump, for the use of newspaper reporters, also
deserve mention.

[THE INVENTION OF THE AGE.]

In naming this pump to be used by interviewers, we must not forget an
ingenious little instrument invented expressly for the protection of the
parties interviewed. It is a silver-plated contrivance, which may be
readily fastened to the bottom of any chair. The interviewer is invited
to take a seat. At his first impertinent remark, a little knob is
touched and a flat implement shaped like a No. 22 foot, begins bouncing
up and down at the rate of seventy bumps a minute, and before the
reporter knows what has happened, the top of his head is interviewing
the ceiling of the room.

[Illustration]

When he comes down to see what’s the matter, this implement follows him
to the door, accelerates his progress down stairs, and giving him a
parting bump on the sidewalk, shuts the front door and hops up stairs
again. The papers pooh-poohed this contrivance, but it gained a first
prize nevertheless.

A French apparatus for winding silk out of cocoons was also truly
wonderful. While the cocoons are serenely enjoying their dinner or
dreaming of the pains and pleasures of the world, a huge bobbin is
quietly unravelling their interior department. They don’t know what has
been going on till they turn around and see the silk dress which has
been stolen from them.

We stopped for a moment before a condensed baker, and saw crackers and
biscuit baked, buttered, and eaten by steam. This made us think of
lunch. We selected the American Restaurant from the many within the
inclosure, and entered.

We were politely handed chairs and a bill of fare. The chairs were
low,--the bill must have been made out on the top of Sawyer’s
Observatory, there was no other way to get it so high. The list was
printed in three languages, and the customer was expected to pay in half
a dozen languages, though only allowed to eat in an a b c. We drank a
cup of tea, ate a biscuit, looked at the _Beefsteak à la mode de Paris_,
and the _Potatoes fricasse haute nouveate_, sighed, and left our watches
in pledge, while we sallied out to try to raise the amount of our bill
on our life insurance.

After completing this negotiation at the International Insurance Bureau,
we started for the Horticultural Building, but the

MODEL CEMETERY

which we were obliged to pass, suited the state of our feelings so well
that we paused to examine it.--We soliloquized:--

[THE UNDERTAKER’S DRUMMER--A DEAD BEAT.]

“In the midst of death we are in life,” said we originally,--“oh death,
sweet death, in the midst of all this life are we reminded of thee;--in
the excitement and the turmoil thy quietness is here. Lo, the labor of
man’s hand and the production of man’s mind we find about us,--we look,
we wonder, we admire, but what, what are these hands and minds to thee?
Nothing; nothing save the dust which in thy mill----” We were
interrupted by a gentleman who approached us and invited us to invest in
one of his patent coffins. He had any number of testimonials from
parties who had used them, stating that under no consideration would
they use any other. He said we might try one, and if we didn’t like it
we needn’t feel compelled to keep it. He seemed very anxious to discover
whether we had any sickly relatives. He took us through the undertaker’s
department; showed us shrouds, sombre trappings, gold and silver
trimmings, rosewood caskets, all the paraphernalia for a pleasant and
comfortable send off. He escorted us through the marble yard, mentioned
what kind of a tombstone he thought would best suit our condition,
quoted verses of poetry which he thought would make suitable
inscriptions, and was really so attentive and persistent that the truth
dawned upon us at last;--he was placed there to talk visitors to death
and brisken up business for the exhibitors.

HE EARNED HIS SALARY,

whatever it was. He explained the system of cremation, and told us if
we had any old aunts or grandmothers about the house to bring them down
and he would take pleasure in demonstrating its beauties practically. He
induced us to purchase three or four little coffins made from the wood
in Independence Hall, to be worn as watch charms;--“very sensible
mementos of the occasion,” said he.

It was by an almost superhuman effort that we broke from him at
last,--we barely saved our lives,--that is all--we walked off a few
yards and then--oh, intelligent reader, let us draw the veil!--we
ourselves were carried to the Hospital.




CHAPTER VIII.

“THE GLOW.” ... WHO HELPED AND WHO ENJOYED IT.


[Illustration]

We remained in the hospital three days. We did not die. Unfortunately
for the purchasers of this work and our friend of the model cemetery, we
_would_ not die in Spring time. We were discharged on account of the
crowded state of the institution. Visitors were beginning to discover
that free board might be obtained, by stratagem, at the hospital, and
the result was that a large proportion of our foreign guests found this
climate very unhealthy. The doctors were cutting, dosing, and
blistering, to their hearts’ content.

We re-entered the grounds with the intention of resuming our inspection
where we had discontinued it, but we were subjected to a severe nervous
shock the very morning of our reappearance.

[HOKEE POKEE WINKEE FUM.]

The bones of two waiters from one of the restaurants, had been
discovered in the bath-room of the Sandwich Island Commissioners, picked
clean. The gentlemen of the legation had entrapped these unsuspecting
servitors, plunged them into hot water, boiled them red as lobsters, and
then made a little feast of them, a reminder of their national banquets.
After feeding upon the poor unfortunates, they strewed their bones about
the apartment without the slightest regard for neatness or decency.
Grief-stricken relatives recognized the remains by two false teeth and
a glass eye which had not been consumed, and two weeping widows gathered
up the bones, while five sobbing orphans scrubbed the floor clean. Our
government immediately informed the court at Hawaii of this indiscretion
on the part of its representatives, hinting that any repetition in the
same quarter would be considered a gross breach of international
etiquette.

This incident so affected us that we at once applied for readmission to
the hospital. It was refused us, and we were obliged to lay off for two
days at our boarding house. When we started out again we proceeded at
once to

AGRICULTURAL HALL.

Our early progenitors having been tillers of the soil, the agricultural
display brought to mind the days of our youth and “the old tabby cat
that we threw in the well.” The turnips reminded us of the warm pressure
of a parent’s hand; the early apples caused our thoughts to wander to
the big peppermint bottle in the kitchen cupboard; in looking upon the
luscious ox-heart cherries, we could imagine the bark of our neighbor’s
dog; the parsnips brought to mind the face of our ancient
school-mistress, the beets recalled to us her blessed ratan, and the
sight of the onions finished up things by bringing tears to our eyes.

In addition to productions of the soil, this department contained
much of the field machinery for which America is so justly
famous--agricultural implements, from an oyster knife to a haywagon;
farm stock, from a potato bug to a prize ox; kitchen garden
preparations, from a rhubarb pie to a paregoric dumpling.

[DOING THE TROPICS.]

The building was divided into tropics. At one end the tropic of Cancer,
named in honor of an American disease; at the other, the tropic of
Capricorn, a cereal indigenous to our soil. The other seven tropics were
sprinkled between, at regular intervals. The live stock exhibit,
belonging to this portion of the Exposition, was most interesting.
Little piggy-wiggies with their tails neatly tied in red, white, and
blue ribbon; representatives of turkey and shanghai amicably sharing the
same Indian meal; horses eating out of silver plated fodder boxes; colts
chewing at rosewood hitching posts; animated mutton chops and undevilled
kidneys calculated to make an epicure’s mouth water; goats, cows,
calves, heifers, and most rare of all, real, genuine, spring chickens,
the very sort which the poet has so touchingly described in his sweet
lines

  “You may fricassee, roast them, or stew, as you will,
  But the scent of the egg shell will cling round them still.”

There was also connected with this department an aviary, containing
specimens of agricultural birds, from a bee to an ostrich.

A little corner given up to old women and their herbs was so suggestive
as to be painful; we steered clear of it and endeavored to rid our
olfactories of the remembrance of catnip and senna, by hieing us to the
birds, flowers, perfumes, and fountains of Horticultural Hall. On our
way thither we passed

THE WOMEN’S DEPARTMENT.

[UNWARRANTED LIBERTIES.]

We became aware of our approach to this sacred locality, by the
Sabbath-like stillness which marked the vicinity. Into the pavilions no
male foot was allowed to tread. The sides were of glass, and tickets
merely conferred the privilege of looking through the transparent
surface. We hinted in the preceding pages at some trouble concerning the
erection of this building, and the ladies in a spirit of refined
sarcasm, had made it a monument of man’s tyranny by building the wooden
and iron work of broken broom handles, twisted pokers, and ruptured fire
shovels. The cement was mixed with handfuls of short human hair of
variegated colors and various degrees of fineness.

Women from all parts of the world were here on exhibition. All colors,
nationalities, styles, and complexions, were properly classified and
arranged within their respective departments. Each woman was ticketed
with a fancy label, on which was inscribed her name, age, nativity,
weight, prominent qualities and general record. With a few exceptions in
the Asiatic and African avenues, the women were ticketed

  “These Goods Not For Sale.”

In the American District, there were some few notices such as

  “Applying for a Divorce,

  “Four months’ Widow,”

  “Open for Negotiations.”

The greatest order and most systematic detail was everywhere observable.
Each age, from eighteen to eighty years, had a separate district. Those
exceeding the latter age were carefully packed away in the sub-cellar.

Electric wires being attached to each department, General Hawley sat
comfortably in his office, and as he touched the springs, the women
smiled, frowned, wept, and laughed in concert.

We remained gazing upon this interesting exhibit, until we felt the
temptation to break through the glass growing too strong for us, when we
continued our way and entered the building sacred to Flora and Pomona,
or in other words

HORTICULTURAL HALL.

Pansies and violets! Sunflowers and forget-me-nots!! Rhododendrons and
daffodils!!! Buttercups and dahlias!!!! Never, never, never, had such a
thing been seen before. Every plant and every flower was labelled with
its name and peculiarity, just like the women we had left. In some cases
this did very well, in others it did very ill. Take, for instance, a
single section--nay, but a small portion of the section, the hyacinth
department, and see what hurt our feelings.

“AMY; dazzling carmine, large spike.”

“DUCHESS OF RICHMOND; rose color; fine truss.”

“MR. MACAULAY; light green, thin, large truss, watery.”

“MARIA THERESA; striped; perfect form.”

“MADAME DE TALLEYRAND; pure, large compact truss, extra fine bell.”

“MRS. BEECHER STOWE; very showy spike.”

“ANNA PAULOWNA; deep; pure white eye, large truss,” and so on.

We know nothing whatever about either spike or truss, but we did not
like this publicity of description one bit. Now, “DIEBITSCH SABALKANSKY;
brilliant carmine, late,” nobody cares about. It makes no difference to
anybody save his wife, whether Mr. Sabalkansky is early or late in his
habits; but to have the heroines of our dreams, like Mrs. Beecher Stowe
and Anna Paulowna, ticketed so slightingly, was more than we could bear
with equanimity.

We wandered for hours among the grand _Victoria Regias_, the
sweet-scented _Heparusa longifolios_, the superb _Gloxianas_, the tiny
_Hopdedoodle calaboosas_, and the stately _Acacias_. Fountains of
rose-water splashed their sparkling drops among the dense and brilliant
foliage; cataracts of soda-water scattered misty bicarbonate sprays upon
the ornamental verdure. There were walks of shady palms, groves of
graceful maples, African cedars, and South American vines. The hall,
like the waist of Athen’s maid, was zone encircled. We paused for an
instant beneath an India-rubber tree and gave full stretch to our
imagination. We wondered what this world would be without flowers--a
body without a soul. If the soul of man is God’s breath, the flowers are
His smile. “Love flowers,” we said, imaginatively, to the people around
us; “the promises of Heaven are written on their leaves. At births and
marriages they are symbols of death, for with the fading sunlight they
too fade; but white and pure upon the breast of the silent sleeper, ’tis
life they typify, the life which knows no night--love flowers and teach
your children to love them.”

Thinking of flowers and children brought to mind the

SWEDISH NURSERY AND KINDERGARTEN

erected upon the grounds, and we resolved to visit it before nightfall.

We arrived there just in time to witness a good old-time spanking in the
Swedish style, which is the Norway of doing it also. Both the delight
and labor afforded the two participants in the operation seemed very
unequally divided. We heard the schoolboy yell in Swedish, however, and
learned how Swedish nightingales were made. The Swedish scholar is
evidently not a model, though his school-house may be. But we must admit
that the American youth surpasses all others in mischievous precocity.
This fact was made painfully apparent just previous to the opening of
the exhibition, in the trial of a little boy four years of age, son of
one of the Park Guards, for larceny. Judge Finletter occupied the bench.
We will insert

THE CASE.

[YOUTHFUL DEPRAVITY.]

The Park Commissioners furnish a certain quantity of old horse shoes,
nails, and scraps of iron, semi-weekly, for the purpose of keeping the
fountain of iron water in the Park up to the proper medicinal standard.
This material is placed in the charge of one of the guards, and the lad
had been in the habit of abstracting quantities of the metal and
disposing of it, it was alleged, to the Phœnix Iron Works. This latter
allegation is not yet proven. Should such be the fact, we must
deploringly conclude that a large quantity of the iron used in the
construction of the Girard Avenue Bridge was obtained from this source.
We shall suspend judgment, however, and continue using the bridge as
usual until the firm is heard from and the matter settled. The boy was
hanged.

We obtained permission from the Superintendent of the Kindergarten to
relate this little incident to young Sweden. We warned him against
having Park guards for fathers, and demonstrated the pettiness of such a
business as selling old iron, when the very highest price to be realized
therefrom, under the most favorable circumstances and general state of
commerce, is half a cent a pound. The children rose in a body when we
had concluded and passed us a vote of thanks, so we left the
establishment in the consciousness of duty well performed, and resolved
to send our children of the future to Sweden to be kindergartened.

Next morning we started out very early, with the determination of
proceeding at once to the Main Building to make a tour among the foreign
exhibitors, but our progress was arrested by the most remarkable
occurrence ever happening in a civilized country.

The day previous, Alderman Carpenter, of the Central Station, had
invited

PRINCE HADJEE SADI CURRYHOTTE,

[A BURNING SHAME.]

cousin of the Rajah of India, to drive with him through the Park. The
Alderman having been the recipient of much attention from crowned heads
during his recent visit to the old world, desired to reciprocate, hence
the invitation. Most unfortunately, however, on approaching the
Zoological Gardens, a train of cars rattled suddenly over the
Pennsylvania Railroad Bridge. The horses became frightened, Carpenter
lost control of the animals, the carriage was overturned, and
Curryhotte, falling upon his head, was killed instantly. Of course this
occurrence caused no surprise to Philadelphians. Upsets and “accidental
deaths” in the Park from the same cause are looked for and expected at
least three times a week; the trouble arose from the fact that the
Prince had his wife in this country with him. As soon as she ascertained
that she was a widow, she resolved upon a _suttee_. She called her
relatives and friends together and bade them get the funeral pile in
readiness upon the

“GRAND PLAZA,”

where the fireworks are usually exhibited. The gentleman in charge of
the model cemetery, already mentioned in these annals, was the only
Caucasian informed of her intention, and he cheerfully colored his face,
donned the flowing robes of a Brahmin, and accepted the appointment of
Master of Ceremonies.

Imagine our astonishment at coming upon this scene. The fire was
crackling merrily away, the corpse was frizzling a beautiful brown, and
the assembled participants were singing Hindoo hymns. The Master of
Ceremonies was standing at the head of the flames with the widow in his
arms. He was waiting till her husband should be nearly gone before he
chucked her on, in order to keep up the fun as long as possible.

“Stop! hold!!” we shouted, as soon as we could control enough breath to
utter the sounds; “stop! We cannot allow any such proceedings--drop that
woman.”

[Illustration]

The Master of Ceremonies turned upon us fiercely--

[“WHOSE FUNERAL IS THIS?”]

“Whose funeral is this?” he asked ironically, and there was a wicked
gleam in his eye which plainly indicated that he wasn’t going to be
defrauded of his job without a struggle. “Go on with the music,” he
added, turning to the Hindoos, who had ceased singing at the
interruption, and he raised the widow in his arms ready for the throw.
Our bosoms swelled; we were about to annihilate him, when chance
intervened to save his life. Some rumor of the contemplated ceremony had
reached the ears of the Park Commissioners. Naturally indignant that any
such thing should take place in the Park, without their permission being
first asked and obtained, they now came rushing upon the ground with
their little fire engine, closely followed by the Insurance Patrol. In
less time than it takes to record it, the widow was wrapped up in oil
skin blankets, the natives were howling other than hymn tunes, and the
fire and Master of Ceremonies were both put out by well-directed streams
of water. The latter threatened vengeance. He was the most disappointed
man we have ever seen.

Whether war with India will be the result of this interference in a
national and religious custom, the future alone can tell. We proceeded
upon our way, and entering the Centennial precincts, the world within
the palings, we passed a week in inspecting the

FOREIGN DEPARTMENTS.

The foreign display within the Main Building was grand, that outside
was grander still. Had our minds been one whit less strong, we should
have been bewildered by the conglomeration.

Turkish kiosks, Chinese pagodas, Japanese pavilions, Arabian tents,
Persian bazaars, Egyptian temples, Mohammedan mosques, Gypsy
encampments, and American drinks, enough to confuse any one. Then
monuments, booths, fountains, and cigar stands innumerable. We will give
one day as an example of our travels.

We enter an Egyptian structure and behold an oriental barber shaving one
of his countrymen. Egypt cannot teach us anything about shaving our
countrymen; we do not linger here. As we leave the building a Russian
britzska, a carriage invented especially for the use of spelling bees,
dashes by us drawn by the very cream of Tartar steeds. We catch on
behind until we reach a Persian bazaar. We gaze upon the long bearded
native men, and the white shrouded native women, busily engaged in their
national occupation of going to sleep, and become wrapped up in the
shawls of imagination. We are aroused by a wailing outside, cries of
grief mingled with curses and lamentations in choice Persian and gum
Arabic. The cause of this wailing was soon made evident.

LITTLE JOHNNY SHAH,

heir-apparent to the throne of Persia, in a laudable thirst for
knowledge, offered a piece of cake to one of the young lions in the
Zoological Gardens. He wished to find out how old he was, by his teeth.
The experiment will not affect the scientific world as much as it did
the young Persian. That lion may still be seen picking finger-nails out
of his teeth, and as all loyal subjects in Persia are expected to do as
their sovereign does, a dispatch sent to Teheran announced the pleasing
intelligence, that under the next Shah it would be the fashion to wear
but half a finger and a thumb on the left hand. We remain awhile to
share the grief of the stricken father and seventeen mothers, and then
resume our pilgrimage.

We pause for a moment before the French restaurant, enraptured, looking
at the pretty girls and other dainties served up there. We decline the
invitation of a Chinese drummer, hanging around to inveigle parties into
the restaurant established by his country, with a long rigmarole about
“kittens fried in castor oil,” and enter the Main Hall.

[WE SEE NO SEÑORITAS.]

We land in the desert of Sahara, but desert Sahara and step over to
Spain. We look for bright-eyed señoritas, with black lace veils and
stringless guitars; we have been educated to expect this in Spain, by
the ladies of the “International Tea Party.” We are disappointed; we
find a few men who look as if they had walked all the way from Madrid,
selling wine, fruit, and olive oil. We pass through Portugal; more wine,
fruit, and olive oil. We hop through Japan, change a ten cent note for a
bushel of their “hard money,” and sachey on. We linger for hours in fair
France, principally in the Paris department. We saunter through Austria,
stopping to speak a word of complimentary encouragement to the Emperor,
who looks a little down-hearted, evidently thinking of Vienna; then
through Germany and Switzerland, until we reach Great Britain.

She is gay and festive. She exhibits models of all her public buildings,
among the most interesting being the tower in which Anna Bowlegs was
decapitated. The order of this lady’s garter too is very curious, and is
exhibited, together with her marriage certificate. The only article sold
in this department is

WINDSOR SOAP,

put up in neat boxes, _fac similes_ of the castle in which its peculiar
properties were first discovered. Victoria and the girls are faithful
attendants at the table. They are assisted by Mr. John Bright, the
eminent proprietor of a popular kidney disease, and also by the Chief of
our Fire Department, who is suspiciously attentive to the oldest of the
ladies. We end up our day’s travels in Russia. The tardy participation
of this power was attributed in some quarters to the exertions of a Mrs.
Catacrazy, who was offended by a Washington lady, and took this means,
it is said, of “getting even.” Such is not the fact. The cause was,
briefly, as follows:--

PRINCE GORTSCHAKOFF

[A STATE SECRET.]

visited this country _incognito_ a short time ago, and of course passed
a few days in Philadelphia. One day, leisurely walking through East
Park, with his clay pipe in his mouth and his _shillalah_ in his hand,
he carelessly broke a small spray of green from a bush by the wayside
and stuck it in his hat. A careful Park guard saw him and arrested him
at once, on a charge of malicious mischief. The Prince remonstrated in
choice Russian. The guard, pretending not to understand him, answered in
Chaldaic, and dragged him before Magistrate Smith. He was fined five
dollars for destroying the shrubbery and ten dollars for speaking
disrespectfully to a Park guard. When it was discovered who the offender
was, Mr. Wm. M. Bunn, in his capacity as Guardian of the Poor, at once
paid the fine. Mr. Bunn explained to the Prince what a valuable country
this was, when a foreigner is obliged to pay five dollars for a single
green sprig.

Gortschakoff gratefully presented Mr. Bunn with the order of the “Golden
Fleece,” and regretted that he hadn’t another to bestow upon the
magistrate.

This and this alone was the cause, and we tell it confidentially to our
countrymen.

The tardiness, however, did not materially affect either the exhibit of
Russia or the success of the Exposition. Indeed, the French visitors
freely asserted that the Exhibition far surpassed the Vienna fair of
’72, and the German guests boldly declared, with a unanimous voice, its
superiority to the Paris Exhibition of ’67.




CHAPTER IX.

“THE FLICKERING.” ... HOW IT DIMMED AND HOW IT BRIGHTENED.


[Illustration]

Father Time seemed to be the only Philadelphian who did not deviate from
his ordinary course of life during the Exhibition months. He continued
sowing and reaping as usual; cutting the blooming flowers from the stem
of the year, and counting the sands which carried with them into
oblivion, gradually but surely, exhibition, visitors, commissioners, and
restaurant keepers. But though his children were unable to prolong a
single passing moment, they managed to crowd into each day as much
novelty and excitement as would ordinarily suffice for a twelvemonth,
and they got the better of the old man in this way.

To attempt a record of one tithe of the many occurrences deserving
immortalization at our hands, would be to meet with failure as complete
as that which attended the experiment of Mr. Charles Airy, of Georgia,
with his flying-machine, upon the third day of June, 1876.

This young man had communicated with that eminent scientist, Mayor
Stokley, about a year previous to the attempt. The Mayor, who delights
in encouraging genius of all kinds, promised his countenance to a trial
trip of the machine at Philadelphia during the Centennial year.

“I will go with you,” he promised, “I, myself, will ascend with you into
the illimitable ether; together will we make the attempt, together will
we share the glory.”

This fact becoming known, Messrs. Daniel Dougherty and George Francis
Childs, anxious to imitate so noble an example, entered their names,
too, upon the ship’s books for the voyage. Airy was happy, and his
happiness became delirious joy when, a week previous to the date of
departure, he received another application worded as follows:--

[SOARING GENIUS.]

  “I long to soar above this world of trials. False outwardness weighs
  upon my heart; the scent of earth smothers the zephyrean impulses of
  my soul. Take me with you. Yon, yon, into that blissful atmospheric
  belt where hay-fevers are unknown.

  “Confidingly yours,
  “H. W. B.”

The report of the coming trial of this air-ship spread rapidly
throughout the land. Scientific men, railroad agents, and rapid transit
speculators arrived in flocks and examined and re-examined the various
rods, wires, screws, governors, pistons, cogs, gauges, and cranks. The
newspapers, too, were lavish with preparatory puffs. Fate willed,
however, that they should not be strong enough to blow success.

The machine was constructed in the shape of an American eagle with
outstretched wings. A neat little boudoir was fitted up for passengers
between the ribs, and a refrigerator for provisions was suspended from
the beak.

The eventful morning arrived and saw an immense concourse of people at
the foot of Sawyer’s Observatory, from the summit of which the
experimental flight was to be made at 10 o’clock precisely. At that hour
the inventor was on hand, attired in pink tights and spangles. A note
was handed to him by Mr. Sawyer; he read it aloud to the assemblage--

[HE COMETH NOT.]

  “MY DEAR AIRY: I am unable to rise even from my bed, so of course
  can’t go up with you to-day. The doctor has just examined my silvery
  tongue, and bids me stay at home. He thinks I have been high enough
  this week, and says, jocosely, having been on a lark I had better
  ‘shoot the eagle.’ I lie here as I write you this note. Better luck
  next time.

  “DOUGHERTY.”

Airy was disappointed, and his countenance grew longer when a second
note quickly followed the first:--

  “Sad and broken are my spirits. I am out of heart to-day, for my hope
  of flying with you has itself just flown away. My young man has left
  the office, gone to meet his brother Jim, I must take the
  advertisements, hitherto received by him. Were I not tied to my
  Ledger--free upon my native wilds, naught but death could keep me from
  you.

  “Ever yours,
  “GEORGE FRANCIS CHILDS.”

“Never mind,” sighed Airy, “as long as Stokley sticks by me, I don’t
care.” But alas, the hour for starting came and passed, and Stokley put
in no appearance. Another hour winged its silent flight, and the people
below grew impatient. Thirty minutes more, and the Mayor was still among
the wanting. Twelve o’clock pealed simultaneously from the restaurant
clocks, always half an hour fast, and the inventor had sadly made up his
mind to start alone, when a figure waving a red handkerchief appeared
upon the brow of George’s Hill. “Ah,” shouted Airy, “Stokley at last--I
knew he’d come.”

The figure hurried on, but soon those upon the Observatory could see
that it was not the Mayor. ’Twas a more ponderous form, bare-headed,
with a wealth of silver locks floating in the wind.

“Wait for me,” it cried, “oh wait for me, I pray!” and ten minutes later
the great Plymouth preacher stood grasping Airy by the hand.

“Let smiles, like summer buds, adorn the pastures of thy face--I’m
here!”

There was a bustle in the crowd, and the people cheered and cheered
again, when it became evident that the wonderful machine was soon to
move. The passenger was handed into the boudoir, and the inventor,
getting astride of the metallic bird, tucked his coat tails beneath its
sacred wings. The excitement below was intense.

“I will wait five minutes more for Stokley,” said Mr. Airy; “he will be
so disappointed if he finds I have started without him.”

Suddenly the telegraphic wires attached to the bird’s tail began to
work;--a message from Stokley at last.

“Can’t come; wife won’t let me--_bon voyage_--Bill.”

“Let go the ropes,” shouted Airy.

The strings were cut from the eagle’s talons, and the great machine with
a rush and a flutter, rose majestically five hundred feet in the air,
and--majestically staid there. Then the intrepid rider began hunting for
the screw designed to effect a downward motion, and the passenger in the
boudoir began to look pale and anxious. The crowd below saw a little man
frantically jerking at wires and springs, turning screws and varying
gauges, and a metallic eagle stationery in the air above them.

[YE GALLANT TAR AND HIS MORTAR.]

The inventor’s exertions were in vain; the machine wouldn’t go up and
wouldn’t come down. There hung the noble bird with its noble freight,
like Mahomet’s coffin, ’twixt earth and heaven. Night fell and the eagle
didn’t. The pale moon rose up slowly and calmly, she looked down, and
her man seemed to be laughing at the unfortunate aeronauts. A week
passed, and the refrigerator being empty, it was dropped from the bird’s
beak in the hope of effecting a change of position;--but all in vain.
That machine became an object of exclusive interest, and hundreds of
plans were devised for reaching it, but without avail. Mortars were
brought from the Navy Yard and provisions were shot up to the inventor,
and bouquets and slippers to his companion. A loaf of rye bread hit the
proud American eagle in the eye, and a veal cutlet knocked out the
passenger’s front teeth. On the twelfth day of their elevation, a rope
two miles long, manufactured expressly for the purpose, was tied around
the body of a young porker. Piggy was then shot up from a mortar aimed
by Mr. A. E. Borie, whose experience as Secretary of the Navy made him
best fitted for the delicate and important task. The choice was well
made; the porker landed in the passenger’s lap and was clasped to his
bosom in a convulsive embrace. Then a discussion arose in the air ship
as to which of the twain should be first lowered. A penny was tossed,
and of course the passenger won. The haggard inventor sighed and
submitted to the decree of fate. But the moment the great preacher was
out of the machine, while he yet dangled in air, it collapsed, and
before the pitying and astounded crowd could utter the cry which rose to
its lips, the wonderful aerial ship was a ton of old metal and straps,
strewed about the Centennial grounds. The passenger came down, as he
does all things, gracefully, and was caught in the outstretched arms of
a delegation of his flock. Mr. Airy was shipped back to Georgia in
sunburnt sections, just as he was found, a leg to-day, a thumb
to-morrow, and a nose next week. They were still receiving small
consignments of him at headquarters at last accounts. Coroner’s
verdict:--“Too much gas in the balloon to allow it to come down, and not
enough to carry it up higher.”

This failure cast a gloom over the exhibition, which was not dispelled
until the 21st day of the month, when the great “cricket match” was
inaugurated.

This was an interesting occasion, long anticipated in sporting circles.
The celebrated “Newhall Eleven” was to be pitted against the “All Comers
Eleven,” for the championship of America, a silver belt and a tin water
vessel in the shape of a pocket flask.

The game was called at five o’clock in the morning, upon the
International cricket ground in the rear of Horticultural Hall. The
“Newhall Eleven” was sent to the bat, Hen and Bill having charge of the
wickets, with Herb Meade and Pop Beer attending to the bowls.

[SINGLES, DOUBLES, AND TRIPLETS.]

Henry began by drawing his leg for one, and continued this surgical
operation by drawing his arm for another one, which made two. Bill
started off and lost his stump, which was picked up by Pop Beer, who
regretted to find it out. Pete Newhall then came in. By a hit to square
leg he made four, and by a miss to round leg, six. The game now became
exciting. Three leg bails and two leg byes were scored on Herb Meade,
who after following with two wides and one narrow, was relieved by Joe
Large. He began with a maiden who brought in a single, double, and
triplets in quick succession. Hen Newhall was caught out by Beer, and
his brother Tim came to the scratch confident and fresh as a daisy. He
gave evidence of careful training, and got in a good cut with his pocket
knife. He followed this with a drive through the park, after which
several more maidens were gallantly picked up by Messrs. Outerbridge and
Wirebridge, when, the crowd being asleep, the continuation of the game
was postponed until the next day.

Tim Newhall retired gracefully on a squirmer, and Ike came in on a
check, opening with a splendid hit under the ropes beyond the bottle
holder, scoring four. Joe Large here burnt his fingers on a hot liner,
and Ike, by a hit between long leg and short leg, scored another two.
The bowlers were then changed for Messrs. Caldwell and Calledill, and
the game proceeded.

The Newhall Eleven continued gallivanting among maidens and wides and
byes, until they had scored 202, when the selected eleven went in. They
could do nothing, however, against the heavy Newhall bowling. Large,
Small, and Medium went out in one, two, three, order. Caldwell caught a
ball between his teeth and held it there while he made twenty-three
runs, winning the tin flask for the best individual score, but beyond
this the play was weak.

We shall not attempt a chemical analysis of the bowling, but merely give
the following record of runs, which contains all that is historical--the
result.

“_Newhall Eleven._”

                     RUNS.
  George Newhall      20
  Sam. Newhall        19
  Hen Newhall         18
  Bill Newhall        17
  Ike Newhall         18
  Tim Newhall         19
  Pete Newhall        18
  Bob Newhall         19
  Dave Newhall        17
  Ed. Newhall         17
  Oldhall himself     20
                     ---
      Total          202

“_Selected Eleven._”

                     RUNS.
  Joseph Large         0
  Ephraim Small        0
  Manassah Medium      0
  John Outerbridge    15
  Jim Innerbridge     14
  Fred Wirebridge     13
  Herb Meade           5
  Pop Beer             4
  Jake Caldwell       23
  Moe Calledill       11
  Abe Rooster          2
                     ---
      Total           87

In compliance with the request of the Executive Committee, this was the
only inning played. Too many foreign visitors lost their fortunes in
betting to admit of a continuance.

The day after this match things looked gloomy again. The Philadelphia
Rifle Club, designing to take part in the International Shooting Match
in September, went out to the Park to practise, taking the shield-like
boards containing the Park Regulations for targets. In seven minutes
four little children were shot dead. ’Tis true they were very little
children, and their parents had plenty more of the same kind at home;
still the occurrence was unpleasant. Fortunately the Park Commissioners
interfered with this mode of practising before any of the sign-boards
had been injured.

[THE DIN OF WAR.]

An American Camp Meeting and a Mock Battle were the other principal
novelties which filled out the programme of the week. We stayed away
from the camp-meeting on principle--they kept perpetually passing the
contribution box, so of course we know nothing of it, and were not
benefited by it. The mock battle, however, was entirely in our line. We
come from old Revolutionary stock. The powder box is among our earliest
recollections, and we cut our first teeth on bullets. A really
first-class mock battle thrills us to the core. We are ready to look on
at any time.

The militia encamped in the vicinity of Belmont, and formed during some
months of the Exposition, a most attractive feature. The boys, in neat
white tents, with carpeted floors, walnut furniture, and spring-chicken
breakfasts, endured all the luxuries of real camp-life. They were
compelled to rise at eight o’clock every morning, black their boots,
brush their hair, and prepare to meet their lady friends. At 2 P. M. the
roll was called, and every man was required to report for dinner; after
which, the army drove around the Park in carriages supplied by the
Commissioners. Foreign commanders of all grades and nationalities
pronounced them the cleanest, neatest, jauntiest lot of heroes they had
ever seen. Small wonder that the boys wanted a fight!

The battle was to be followed by a hop. Special invitations by Dreka, on
tinted paper adorned with suitable monograms, were sent to the lady
acquaintances of the warriors taking part. The ground was well sprinkled
with saw-dust for the convenience and protection of the dying and the
dead.

[THE COMBAT DEEPENS--ON, YE BRAVES!]

At eight A. M., the boys having risen an hour earlier than usual, Col.
R. Dale Benson entered the ring and rode around it three times at
break-neck speed, amid the tremendous plaudits of a tremendous crowd. In
one hand he carried the stars and stripes; in the other, his unsheathed
sword. His horse’s bridle he held between his teeth. With a final “HOUP
LA,” he vanished behind the screen. General Wagner, who commanded the
opposing party, then rode in, bowed to the audience, and placed a chip
of wood on his left shoulder. Benson returned, minus the flag, and
boldly knocked the chip off. This was the signal for the fray. Drums
were beat, trumpets sounded; the crowd applauded, children shrieked,
women fainted, and amid all the din,--

  “Forth from the canvas tent,
  Marched the First Regiment,”

while from the opposite side of the field, the Second Regiment and the
Jersey Blues approached, preceded by the West Point Drum Corps. Around
from the left wing, cautiously moving forward, came the Keystone
Battery, each swarthy gunner with a camelia in his button-hole, while
the City Troop, bouncing upon their martial steeds, came gaily from the
right. Suddenly their captain, Rogers, rushed to the centre of the
arena. He waved his sword on high.

“Forward, the _Light_ Brigade--Charge for the guns,” he said; and, quick
as thought, the swarthy gunners were flying like chaff before the wind.

And now broke out the dread roll of musketry, and the air was obscured
by the terrible smoke of war. The First Regiment fired four volleys in
quick succession, to make the smoke thick, and then fell flat to the
ground. Meantime, the Jersey Blues dashed forward with fixed bayonets to
recapture the battery and return it to the swarthy gunners, who were now
distributed around various parts of the Park. The nervous excitement
among the lookers-on became almost too great to bear. Don Carlos of
Spain, who was on the grand stand, pulled off his coat and was only
restrained from jumping into the ring through the exertions of General
Grant, whose own pulse was beating high.

The smoke cleared away, and then leapt into the _mêlée_ the star of the
entertainment, General Philip Sheridan, standing erect upon his
bare-backed steed. Shout upon shout greeted his appearance, and it was
fully five minutes before the audience would allow the battle to
proceed.

[WHOOP!]

The City Troop stood immovable before the gleaming bayonets of their
assailants; the First and Second Regiments popped away at each other
with blank cartridges, and General Sheridan, alone in the centre of the
field, uttered the wild blood-curdling whoop which he had learned from
the savages, and which stands him in such good service in his married
life. Few women could brave a whoop like that.

[Illustration]

Such was the position of the field, and victory seemed doubtful upon
which banner to perch.

“Surrender!” shouted the Captain of the Jersey Blues.

“Never!” thundered Rogers of the Troop.

“Whoop! whoop!” came thrillingly from the lungs of Sheridan.

“Advance in solid square and flank them on both ends,” commanded Benson
of the doughty First.

“Open ranks, trap them into your centre and then close about them,”
ordered Col. Neff, of the Invincible Second.

“Whoop! whoop! whoop!” yelled Little Phil.

“Hold one moment,” sounded a deep full voice above all the rest, the
voice of Sherman, the umpire; “who’s to win this battle? It’s past lunch
time and I should like the thing decided.”

At the word “lunch,” a change came o’er the scene.

“We surrender,” remarked Rogers.

“Whoop!” shouted Sheridan for the last time, and Col. Benson, mounting
one of the guns, crowed lustily. The warriors, covered with sawdust and
glory, then mingled with the crowd; and when we left the ladies were
busily engaged brushing the former from the uniforms of their favorites,
who were modestly receiving the latter in the congratulations of all
around them.

We didn’t wait for the hop, but learned that it was as satisfactory as
the military display.

And so passed the time until that day of days, the Fourth of July, 1876.
One hundred thousand Americans, who had not taken part in their
country’s first birth-day celebration, resolved to atone for that
neglect upon this occasion. Statues were to be unveiled, fountains
dedicated, salutes fired, and fireworks exploded. An enthusiastic
astronomer predicted that the sun would rise an hour earlier than the
regulation time for the season upon this great day and his augury proved
correct.

At four o’clock A. M. the Mayor of the city, who, with the members of
Councils, had slept upon the grounds, entered the Main Exhibition Hall,
read a few chapters of the Bible from the top of the southeastern tower,
and finished up with his usual proclamation forbidding the firing of
guns and pistols other than those specially ordered for the salutes. A
selected choir of mysterious pilgrims then sang a choice collection of
hymns.

At the conclusion of this religious exercise, free lunch and forty
thousand loaves of bread were distributed from the steps of Memorial
Hall. It was an imposing sight to behold the long line of visitors, who
were living here on the European plan, with their tin-pails and baskets,
waiting for the loaves and soup.

[A GOOD TURN.]

At seven o’clock the Liquor Dealers’ Protective Union proceeded to the
Catholic Temperance Fountain, and dedicated the same with appropriate
ceremonies. The president of the T. A. B.’s turned on the cock, and for
the first half hour the magnificent fountain spouted sparkling streams
of golden whisky, generously supplied as a pleasant surprise by the
Protective Union.

The statue of Christopher Columbus, the jolly salt previously mentioned
in this history, was next to be unveiled. It was serenaded by an
orchestra of eighty hand-organs, after which the Italian societies and
citizens were addressed in their native tongue by the Italian Minister
to the United States. He commenced, naturally, with a glowing eulogy
upon his immortal countryman--

“Sono rare e fugaci le occasioni grandi, ed è pudenza e magnanimita,
quando si offeriscono, l’accettarle,” said he, “and the noble man, whose
statue reared by loving hands now stands beneath that veil, took his
tide at its flood. Ill mondo è un bel libro, ma poco serve a chi non lo
sa leggere, but ’twas a book which was plain to him, a book which he had
read, an open page which he had studied.

“Ill sangue nobile è un accidente della fortuna; le azioni nobili
carratterizzano il grande. No title greeted his coming to the world, but
he left at his exit a name which still lives freshly on every tongue,
while hundreds of potentates and their titles are forever buried in
oblivion. Raise, raise the veil and let his features smile upon us.”

Amid cheers and _vivas_, the veil was raised; when lo--the committee had
made a mistake, and instead of Columbus, the statue of Religious Liberty
erected by the Jewish order of _B’nai B’rith_ was exposed to view. The
Italian minister was disgusted, and so were the Jewish lodges when they
arrived and found their statue already unveiled. They arranged matters
amicably, however, and started off with the sons of sunny Italy to
discover the great discoverer and let off their speeches at the base of
his monument. At ten o’clock there was a grand military review, of which
we will spare our readers the account, and at twelve precisely the
International Concert in the open air was inaugurated with a symphony by
twenty thousand string instruments. Most of the people thought the
musicians were just tuning up, so of course the symphony was a success.
At its conclusion an awful and unexpected sound startled the assemblage.
The earth trembled, and the towering trees bent their haughty heads to
earth. The Messrs. Krupp of Prussia, had fired off their mammoth gun. As
soon as the report reached police headquarters, a posse under command of
Chief Jones started for the grounds and arrested the Messrs. Krupp,
their engineers and firemen, for violating the Mayor’s proclamation.
They passed the remainder of the day in the cells at Fifth and Chestnut
Streets. After the excitement caused by this proceeding had subsided,
the concert was continued.

The national hymn of each country was rendered by its native artists in
appropriate costumes, all at the same time. The Mukdeesha Warblers from
the Eastern shore of Africa, made the most noise; and the English
singers in their affecting anthem “God shave the Queen,” made the most
music.

[FIREWORKS--HEREDITARY TALENT.]

It was four o’clock P. M. before the last howl died on the summer air,
and then the crowds began moving towards the “Grand Plaza.” Here the
display of fireworks was to take place under the direction of Professor
Jackson, son of the Professor Jackson who directed the famous fireworks
at New Orleans some years previously. One large piece was erected in
honor of each State in the Union, and one in honor of each Nation
represented in the Exposition. We make a few extracts from the programme
(printed on white satin) which was handed to each attendant at the
“Plaza,” young and old, rich and poor.

21. THE CITY OF PHILADELPHIA:--A large Quaker with broad-brimmed hat in
blue and gold. His feet represent, respectively, Philadelphia and West
Philadelphia, with the Schuylkill River, at white heat, flowing between.
The tip of his hat typifies the State House steeple, and Seybert’s bell
will ring inside while the piece is burning.

40. THE EXHIBITION BUILDINGS:--Gold, silver, and currency flames, with
violet lights in relief. The commissioners in red, white, and blue, with
stars darting from their eyes, distributed judiciously through the
piece.

54. THE LION AND THE EAGLE LYING DOWN TOGETHER:--Symbolic of the peace
’twixt England and America. N.B. The Eagle is inside of the Lion.

72. PEARLS BEYOND PRICE:--A golden oyster opens and emits in order the
coats of arms of the thirteen original States.

84. A GOOD PUFF:--A mammoth cigar, which, shedding its outer wrapper,
will reveal the form and features of General Grant in blue blazes.

[GETTING HOME.]

At 5.15 o’clock, Professor Jackson thanked the Lord that all his
preparations were completed; at 5.20 the Lord responded with the
heaviest shower of rain witnessed since the deluge. It exceeded Mr.
Jackson’s usual showers, in the same proportion as this spectacular
effort was to have exceeded his former pyrotechnic exhibitions. The
fire-works were turned to water-works, and the crowd sadly and slowly
worked its passage home.




CHAPTER X.

“THE SMOKE.” ... HOW IT WENT UP.


[Illustration]

Sere and yellow grows the leaf in these closing pages of our volume, and
in now recording the last doings in connection with the Exposition, we
would have such a splendid opportunity for enlarging upon the mutability
of mundane affairs, that we regret having neither the space nor contract
for moralizing. We feel that we could say something striking, something
original, something to be remembered on the reader’s deathbed, as a balm
and consolation--but alas, prosaic publishers forbid; they will not
allow us to inscribe words which might make death appear desirable.

On the tenth day of September the charge for admission to the Exposition
was reduced one-half for the time of its continuance. This action
occasioned a great influx of European nobility and gentry, parties who
had been waiting for the reduction, and the extreme capacity of the
various steamship lines was taxed for their accommodation. Baron
Rothschild, Baroness Burdett Coutts, and the Marquis of Lorne were among
those who gave a new spurt of brilliancy to the affair. The poor Greeks
came too, during these months, and their eminent countryman A. T.
Stewart also made his first appearance upon the grounds.

By this time most of the potentates had departed. We had become so used
to affecting farewells, that the tears started voluntarily to our eyes
whenever we chanced to hear a steamboat bell or a locomotive whistle.
Only one of the potentates left without paying his hotel bill, a most
gratifying fact. We refrain from mentioning his name out of
consideration for his family.

Things in general, out upon the grounds and in the buildings, began to
look seedy, and the combined action of the Chinese and Japanese
Commissioners, in summarily shutting up their portion of the show and
going home, was productive of a general feeling of listlessness, a sort
of forewarning of the end. We are sure that everything was done that
could be done to please these pigtailed and pig-headed Celestials, but
the fact is, the old boy himself couldn’t satisfy them. We have no
desire to record anything harsh, but we deem it our plain duty to state
clearly, for the vindication of our beloved country in the eyes of
posterity, what really occasioned this sudden move.

Every candid reader will admit that it could by no possibility prove an
easy task to supply, for the many varieties of visitors of such
different tastes and habits, a full and liberal allowance of palatable
food, such as that to which they had been accustomed. After the episode
of the Sandwich Island Commission which we have noted, the gentlemen of
this delegation were given free run of the anatomical departments of
Jefferson Medical College and the University, and the Executive
Committee congratulated itself that they, at least, were provided for.
And so they were. No more waiters were missed during the entire time of
their stay. But suddenly, there was a revolution at the “Globe Hotel”
and a mutiny at the “Transcontinental.”

[GIVE ’EM RATS!]

Day after day had the stewards of these hotels scoured the Callowhill
Street, the Spring Garden Street, the Girard Avenue, and _all_ the city
markets with terrier dogs and shotguns, hunting rats to be served to the
Celestials at their establishments. Traps, too, were placed under each
stall; in short every luxury the markets afforded in this line was
prepared for them, and the products of thousands of private traps were
generously donated by patriotic citizens, and yet the supply was not
equal to the demand. Our visitors found a peculiar fascinating flavor in
the American rat, and it became absolutely impossible to satisfy them.
Then, too, the candles at these hostelries disappeared in a rapid and
mysterious manner. Mysterious until one fatal Wednesday evening, when a
Mandarin of the first rank, who was entitled to wear six swords and able
to swallow the half dozen at once, and who consequently ought to have
known better, was discovered with a box of penny dips under his flowing
robes, making his way stealthily up the cellar steps at the “Globe.” The
very same evening a great commotion was raised at the “Transcontinental”
by the discovery of Gail Hamilton’s lapdog, stewed in kerosene oil, in
the private chamber of the Secretary of the Chinese delegation. As might
be expected, the visitors joined cause, braved the thing out, and
declared that they were being starved, and were forced to this action to
sustain life. Then, packing up their goods, they left indignantly in a
body.

[THE BATTLE OF THE MOTHERS.]

Reunions and conclaves, however, and meetings of national and
international, social, philanthropic, medical and scientific bodies,
kept things tolerably lively, and the month of October was really
brilliant. There was a horse show, a cattle show, a dog show, and a
poultry show. There was to have been a baby show too. In fact, it was
announced and arranged, but was broken up on the very day of opening by
a terrible battle among the mothers.

This battle was consequent upon the arrival of a

MRS. MCDUFF,

with a red-headed and cross-eyed infant.

“Begurra, what are ye doin’ here? go home wid ye,” was her greeting to
the fond mammas seated in the live-stock yard of the Pennsylvania R. R.
Co. with their babies in their arms. “What’s the good o’ ye a sittin’
here, compating wid me Mickey?--arrah, luk at the child and tell me
where’s his ekul--sure there’s nary one among ye has a baby fit to go
’longside o’ him, wid his beautiful awburn hair and the shwate smile
atwixt his eyes--go home wid ye, go home!”

And, rolling up her sleeves she improvised a war dance.

After four buckets of gore had been spilled, the managers adjourned the
exhibition, giving every survivor, without exception, a gold medal.
Under the circumstances this was their wisest possible action.

Of all the live-stock exhibitions the dog show was the most successful.
The International Exposition would have been sadly wanting in
completeness if the faithful companion of man had been denied a place
and recognition within its hallowed precincts. He had a place. The R. R.
Drove Yards were arranged in tiers, after the style of _La Scala_ at
Milan, only, instead of accommodating but thirty-six hundred spectators,
the drove yards accommodated, easily, as many thousands. We know of
nothing to which this show can be likened save the dog pound in August.
Wherever the lorgnette or opera glass was directed, spaniels, poodles,
bloodhounds, terriers, pointers, setters, and bone-crunchers of every
species, from the board yard mongrel who never earned an honest meal, to
the noble St. Bernard who saves a life every morning before breakfast;
from the lady’s pet with his golden collar, to the pugilist’s bull-dog
with his iron chain, met the gaze and bewildered the senses. Every dog
had his day with him, tied up in tissue paper, and it was a pleasing
sight to notice--at a distance--the wistful eye with which many of the
canines followed the forms of plump visitors, and the broad grin with
which they greeted a well-developed thigh.

THE INTERNATIONAL REGATTA

was the last affair of prominence, save the distribution of prizes,
directly connected with the Exposition.

During the entire Spring and Summer our local boat clubs had been in
active training, sitting on the ornamental balconies of their houses,
smoking good cigars and telling bad jokes; but they generously vied
with one another in the attention bestowed upon visiting clubs,
sustaining well the reputation for hospitality usually accorded to jolly
watermen.

The 12th day of the month was the great day of the Regatta, the sports
opening with a single scull race between the commodores of the leading
American navies.

Early in the morning Commodore Ferguson, of the Schuylkill Navy, might
have been seen cruising up and down the river, in his flag-ship, the old
frigate “Constitution.” In one hand he held a long stick with a hook at
the end, which he used for fishing old boots, hats, and other
obstructions from the stream; in the other he held a pair of opera
glasses. These he raised now and then to his weatherbeaten eye,
inspecting ratline, spar, spike, mast, shroud, windlass, and jib-boom of
the fleet under his command. The fish from the river had been removed
temporarily to the aquaria in the Zoological Gardens, and the Turbine
wheels were reversed to pump water into the river from the reservoir, so
that the boats might not run aground too easily. Both sides of the
river, along the entire course, from the Steamboat landing to Rockland,
were actually lined with spectators. Ensigns, pennants, signal flags,
and streamers were flying from every available point, and old Sol smiled
down graciously from above, with his time honored face newly burnished
for the occasion, and reflecting its own happiness in the splashing
water-drops below.

First in position was James Gordon Bennett of New York, stripped to the
waist, with only a scarf of Scotch plaid thrown negligently about his
editorial form. This poor young man makes his living by rowing and
walking matches, literally the sweat of his brow, and the sympathies of
the crowd were with him. He was in a paper boat, made of old “Heralds”
and weighing just nine pounds. On his left was Mr. Lorillard, in a skiff
made of pressed tobacco leaves. Occasionally he leaned over to the edge
of his boat and bit a piece out. Commodore Forbes of Boston, was seated
in the identical boat used by Paul Revere when he rowed from Lexington
to Boston to give that alarm Mr. Longfellow wrote about, and Commodore
Kingsland had a silver boat. His colors were blue, and he looked his
colors all over when he glanced towards Bennett. Commodore Dickinson of
Brooklyn, was accompanied by his sister, Anna E., as coxswain; this
being required of him on account of the family light weight; his colors
were green.

[WHO FIRED THAT BRICK?]

At precisely half past ten, Commodore Ferguson fired a brick into the
river, which was the signal agreed upon, and the half score of
contestants, after the usual salute, dipped their oars and made such a
splendid start that it was vociferously _encored_.

Secretary Robeson took the lead, closely followed by Bennett, the latter
being hotly pressed by Forbes of Boston. Then McGinnis of St. Louis,
made a spurt, got alongside of the “Herald,” which was soaking up water
like a sponge. The race was now bow to bow for a few seconds, when
O’Brien of Chicago, got rapidly forward. Robeson would still have had a
good lead if the boats had been on the return trip. Opposite the Girard
Bridge Commodore O’Shaughnessy of Baltimore, fouled Commodore Riley of
New Orleans, and the other contestants being in the rear, the race
narrowed down to Bennett, Lorillard, Forbes, and McGinnis. Near the
Columbia Bridge, McGinnis ran his penknife through Forbes of Boston’s
tub, and though Lorillard promptly tendered a plug from his vessel to
stop the leak, this delayed all but the irrepressible Bennett, who won
the race in 23 minutes 33½ seconds. This, strangely enough, was the same
result which had been published in the “N. Y. Herald” that same morning,
five hours before the race began.

[Illustration]

There remains now but little more to record. “Screw up your courage to
the sticking point” (sticking things into the fire), for we shall soon
part, mayhap to meet no more in print. We are happily permitted,
however, before concluding, to add weight to the oft-repeated assertion
that HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF. Let sceptics reading what follows, change
the current of their unbelieving thoughts.

  Now the end of the days of the Exposition was drawing nigh, and it
  came to pass that the chief of all the city’s people dreamed a dream.

  And lo, in this dream he beheld a man sitting lonely upon a lump of
  frozen water; his features were set and stern in mould, and icicles
  dangled from the tips of his fingers and his nose.

[AND THE VOICE SAID “WOE!”]

  And it seemed to the chief that he heard in his dream a voice, and the
  voice said, “Woe!”

  Yea, “woe to those who have done this thing, who have placed me here
  in this frigid spot and forgotten my existence.”

  “When they die may their noses long for icicles and long in vain, may
  their parched tongues cleave into the gum roofing of their mouths, and
  in their misery may they think of me.”

  And the chief man rose up early in the morning and summoned before
  him, Mr. Sansom, the interpreter of the court, and related to him his
  dream.

  But the interpreter shrugged his shoulders, and muttering, “nix
  firstay,” he retired to his studies of the mystic and the profound.

  But it happened that when the city’s organs published the dream, the
  minds of men reverted to their solicitor in the vaults of the
  Knickerbocker Ice Co., and the interpretation of the dream was clear.

  And the hearts of men were moved to pity and impulses of compassion,
  and they desired that the incarcerated man might view the fading
  glories, which in their brilliancy, had gladdened his fellow-citizens.

  And the chief called his counsellors together, and Bardsley the son of
  his father rose up and spoke. “Listen, ye pilgrims, to the words of
  wisdom which fall like wild honey and locusts of the wilderness from
  my lips!”

  “Behold, the days of the Exposition are not yet quite done; it is
  still unsafe to risk this man’s attendance thereat; but lo, I would
  suggest a plan whereby we may display in safety our compassion.

  “Let him ascend to the top of Sawyer’s Observatory, and from thence
  look down upon the grounds, even as Moses of old looked down from
  Nebo’s Height upon the Holy Land.”

Yes, reader, it seems almost beyond belief that the lion-hearted
solicitor should have been forgotten. That the city managed to worry
along for six months without his supervision, is one of those mysterious
chances which may only be explained when the light of history and
careful, unprejudiced investigation shall, in the far distant future,
illuminate the cobwebbed darkness of ages long then past.

As Bardsley suggested, so was it done. A committee was appointed with
power to act, and at high noon one clear, bright day, while special
thanksgiving services were being chanted in all the churches, the
General’s congealed form was hauled out of a wagon, with golden ice
nippers, and landed safely on the flag pavement of Independence Hall. A
gentle fire of rosewood shavings and sweet cacia wood was built around
him, and he was gradually and tenderly thawed out. The coat of ice
melted away; the stern features relaxed, the water dripped from all
portions of the herculean frame, the fog, mist, and steam generated by
the process cleared away, and

CHARLIE WAS HIMSELF AGAIN.

[THE CÆSAR OF THE AGE.]

While he was still receiving the congratulations of his friends, the
contractors who were required to remove the buildings approached, and
publicly offered him one hundred thousand dollars to remain in his own
dwelling until the close of the exhibition and then go out to the
grounds and cause a final crash. This, of course, would save them
immense time, labor, and expenditure. With the dignity of Cæsar on the
Lupercal, he drew his form to its full height, and casting one look of
disdain upon the contractors, who instantaneously disappeared beneath
the flagging to rise no more, he walked slowly up Chestnut Street,
followed by the plaudits of an enthusiastic mob.

THE AWARDS OF THE JUDGES,

though of immense importance, are of especial interest only to the
exhibitors. Others desirous of posting themselves on this point, are
referred to the musty, fusty rows of figures and statistics which will
soon flood the American rag market. Two cents a pound is not an
exorbitant price for information which is at all desirable. From the
list of nine hundred and eight foreign and domestic judges, we will
merely select the following familiar names:--Ludlow, Thayer, Biddle,
Dwight, Paxson, Hackett, Cardoza, and Finletter; Dr. Mary Walker, Prof.
Proctor, Stephen Pearl Andrews, Bret Harte, Lydia Thompson, Wm.
Gladstone, Elwood Rowan, Gen. Garibaldi, Susan B. Anthony, and the
Marquis of Lorne.

As the style of report was similar in all cases, an example will give a
general idea of the plan adopted. The scriptural quotations were altered
to suit each instance.

  +-----------------+-------------------------------+-----------+
  | “He giveth his  |           No. 1724.           |“There is  |
  | beloved sleep.” |    “Persian Roach Powder.”    | death in  |
  |                 |                               |the pot.”  |
  +------+-------+--+---+-------+------+-------+----+----+------+
  |No. in|Rank in|Atten-|Punctu-|Liber-|  Mis- |Marks of |Grand |
  |class.|class. |dance.| ality.|ality.|conduct|appreci- |Total.|
  |      |       |      |       |      | marks.|ation of |      |
  |      |       |      |       |      |       | Judges’ |      |
  |      |       |      |       |      |       |services.|      |
  +------+-------+------+-------+------+-------+---------+------+
  |  427 |  426  |  10  |   10  |$12.75|   5   |12 boxes.| 2165 |
  +------+-------+------+-------+------+-------+---------+------+
  |                                 --Three Gold Medals--       |
  |                                                             |
  |Parent or Guardian will sign here ...........................|
  |                                                             |
  |“LORNE”--Judge of Roach Powder and Mother-in-Law Departments.|
  +-------------------------------------------------------------+

The only squabble among the judges was concerning the report on American
fried oysters. Councilman Rowan and Premier Gladstone indulged in some
marked personalities. They might have come to blows but for the prompt
intervention of Miss Lydia Thompson and her little cowhide. She cornered
the belligerents. Mr. Gladstone apologized to our distinguished
councilman over a dish of the matter in dispute, and they compromised on
two gold medals and an honorable mention.

[AN END TO EVERYTHING.]

And now--

When the hands of Nature began stripping the foliage from the trees, the
hands of man began stripping the decorations from the gay palace-like
structures which had been the theatre of the world’s interest for six
memorable months. Like the possessions of that happy but mythical
“family declining housekeeping,” the hope and mainstay of the cheerful,
chirping auctioneer, little by little, piece by piece, the furniture and
contents of the great buildings were going--going--gone!

The white beard of Winter covers our beautiful Park; he has laid his icy
hand upon the quiet stream which dances happily in the Summer days
between its green fringed banks; the tall trees stand bare, looking into
the gray-faced sky, and the jingle of sleigh-bells dies away in the
hollows, and rings out sharply o’er the frozen roads. The busy noise of
Machinery Hall is hushed and forgotten; if you wish to hear the humming
and the buzzing of a few weeks back, you must e’en apply to a
humming-bird or a buzz-saw. The cries of the different animals from the
vicinity of Agricultural Hall no longer reach the ear, no matter how
long the ear may be, and the scent of a million flowers from
Horticultural Hall no longer steals the senses. The stealing is all
over; the visitors have all gone home.

Our country has had her holiday, and, donning her honest homespun suit,
she goes quietly, surely, and confidently to work upon her second
century. ’Tis but her babyhood which has passed into years gone, and
yet--she has proved herself a man.

[FAREWELL.]

Let us not endeavor to lift the veil which marks the boundary of the
present. Blessed are the eyes which have seen these glories past, for
many anticipating eyes grew closed and dulled before the fire blazed.
Dear reader, as its smoke is carried upward and beyond, reluctantly we
say--

“Farewell!”

[Illustration]




[Illustration]

JOHN STILZ & SON,

_THE POPULAR CLOTHIERS_

OF PHILADELPHIA,

_S. E. cor. Seventh and Market Sts._,

FINEST READY-MADE CLOTHING,

CONSISTING OF

_Elegant Spring, Fall, and Winter Overcoats_,

  FINE DRESS SUITS,

  FINE BUSINESS SUITS,

  Alpaca and Drap d’Ete Coats,

  Linen Ulsters and Dusters,

_In immense variety, and at the lowest cash prices_.


ROBERT A. HANCE’S

Granules of Podophyllin Comp.

FOR AFFECTIONS OF THE LIVER,

HEADACHE, CONSTIPATION OF THE BOWELS, etc.,

_No. 46 N. Tenth St., Philadelphia_.

(Formerly 729 Market Street.)

Our GRANULES OF PODOPHYLLIN COMP. have become so popular a remedy, that
we are encouraged to bring them more prominently before the public. They
are invaluable for

Affections of the Liver,

CONSTIPATION, DYSPEPSIA, HEADACHE, &c.

They are _purely vegetable_, and form a complete substitute for Calomel
and Blue Mass, without any of their injurious effects. They make a safe,
efficient, and convenient family remedy, and, being small in size, are
more readily swallowed than a pill.

DIRECTIONS.--For ordinary Headache or Liver Affections, take from 4 to
6, or a sufficient number on retiring to evacuate the bowels once or
twice the following day, and in severe cases repeat the dose for two or
three consecutive nights, and, if necessary, resume the above course in
two or three days. To produce a cathartic effect take 8 or more at a
dose.

_Price 30 cents per Vial, by Mail, 35 cents._

WE ARE ALSO OFFERING

_GRANULES OF SANTONINE COMP._

which are particularly adapted for the expulsion of Worms in children.
Unlike many worm nostrums of the day, they are entirely harmless, and,
being small in size, they make a safe remedy that is readily
administered.

DOSE.--2 to 4 twice daily.

_Price 30 cents per Vial, by Mail, 35 cents._

We are paying _exclusive attention_ to the manufacture of the above,
with a full line of FLUID EXTRACTS.

DRUGGISTS and PHYSICIANS are solicited to give them a trial. We
confidently assert their _superiority_ to any in the market.

=Price List furnished upon application.=


  HENRY M. REIS.
  C. BECHERER.

REIS & BECHERER,

[Illustration]

IMPORTERS OF

BRANDIES, WINES, GINS,

ETC. ETC. ETC.,

No. 306 North Third Street,

PHILADELPHIA.


FIELD & HARDIE,

  633
  MARKET
  Street,
  PHILA.,

[Illustration]

  624
  Commerce
  Street,
  PENNA.

DEALERS AND MANUFACTURERS OF

HARDWARE

FOR

BUILDERS, MACHINISTS, AND RAILROADS.

  PARTICULAR ATTENTION GIVEN TO ORDERS
  FROM
  ARCHITECTS AND OTHERS

[Illustration: ALL WROUGHT RATCHET

FIELD & HARDIE.]

  FOR
  HARDWARE
  SUITABLE FOR ALL KINDS OF BUILDINGS.

ALWAYS IN STOCK A FULL LINE OF

Sash Pulleys, with Composition Pins,

FOR HEAVY SASH,

Of our own Manufacture.

DOOR LOCKS,

_Over Two Hundred Styles_.

Including MALLORY, WHEELER & CO.’S New Four-Tumbler Mortice and Rim
Locks, with Master Keys. Put up in sets for Hotels and Private
Residences. LOCK TRIMMINGS IN PURE SOLID BRONZE, SILVER AND NICKEL
PLATED, with Butt Hinges to match.

Every variety of TRIMMINGS for Sash, and Inside Shutters.

[Illustration: MASTER KEY.

Set of 6 to 100 Locks. No two sets alike, unless so ordered.]

[Illustration: Key belonging to a set of 6 to 100 Locks. No two in the
set alike.]

NAILS,

Sash-Weights, and Cord.


ESTABLISHED 1841.

  WRIGHT’S
  “NE PLUS ULTRA”
  MINCED MEAT.

  Be careful of
  unprincipled Grocers
  representing that

[Illustration]

  They sell Wright’s
  “NE PLUS ULTRA”
  Minced Meat.

The only Medal for Minced Meat, awarded by the Franklin Institute of
1874 to

JOSHUA WRIGHT,

_S. W. Corner_

Spring Garden and Franklin Streets,

PHILADELPHIA.


H. D. MEYER,

MILLINERY GOODS,

RIBBONS,

SILKS, SATINS, VELVETS,

AND

_STRAW GOODS_,

No. 52 North Eighth Street,

Below Arch, west side,

PHILADELPHIA.

_Trimmed Hats and Bonnets a Specialty._


J. DICKSON & CO.,

ENGRAVERS

BY

DICKSON’S PATENT PROCESS.

OFFICE:

_North-East Corner Fourth and Walnut Sts._,

PHILADELPHIA, PA.

These Engravings possess the following Advantages over Wood Cuts:

They are made of a material that is SUPERIOR to either metal or wood.

They are not affected by DAMPNESS or any corroding agents, and will not
WARP or SPLIT.

They do not get BLURRED when a large number of impressions are printed
from them; and they are furnished at =One-Half the Cost=.

Electrotypes and Stereotypes can be made from these Engravings in the
usual manner.

These Engravings are mounted on blocks type high, ready for use on any
printing press.

Proofs furnished when required, and Engravings guaranteed to equal proof
in all respects.

Engravings made for all sorts of Illustrations for Catalogues,
Circulars, Books and Newspapers, etc.

Printers, Publishers, Manufacturers and others, desiring first-class
work at reasonable prices, should give us a trial.

By this process all styles of Engraving may be imitated; thus enabling
type printers to do work formerly done by Lithography and other methods.

Accurate, Fine, and Effective Work, also Illustrated Catalogues, a
Specialty.

ESTIMATES FURNISHED.

The Engravings made by our method have not the broken and blurred
appearance so peculiar in photo-engravings, zinc etchings, and other
kindred processes; besides being furnished in a very short time, and at
half the price of wood cuts.

ENGRAVINGS MADE FROM PHOTOGRAPHS, SKETCHES, REPRINTS, &c., &c.

  Address, J. DICKSON & CO.,

  _NORTH-EAST CORNER FOURTH AND WALNUT STREETS_,

  PHILADELPHIA, PA.

  N. B.--Orders by Mail Promptly Attended to.


PUBLISHERS, BOOKSELLERS, IMPORTERS AND STATIONERS.

  We carry complete stocks of Standard Miscellaneous Books, School and
  College Text-Books, Foreign and Domestic Stationery.

[Illustration]

  We offer advantages for the Purchase of Goods in all Departments of
  our Business, unequalled by any House in the Trade.

  CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFINGER
  624, 626 and 628 Market St.,
  PHILADELPHIA.

All orders for everything required by the Trade filled Promptly and on
the Most Favorable Terms. Correspondence solicited.


_PITKIN & THOMAS_,

No. 71 North Second Street,

  PITKIN, WATERBURY & CO.,
  _110 Chambers St., New York_.

  PHILADELPHIA,

WHOLESALE DEALERS IN

GOVERNMENT STORES,

  OVERCOATS,
  DRESS COATS,
  BLOUSES,
  JACKETS,
  PANTS, etc. etc.

ARMY BOOTS AND SHOES.

  RUBBER BLANKETS,
  RUBBER OVERCOATS,
  RUBBER HORSE COVERS,
  WOOLLEN BLANKETS.

Also,

MANUFACTURERS OF AND DEALERS IN

  Buggy, Track, and Team Harness,
  HORSE CLOTHING, &c.

_SEND FOR PRICE LIST._


LADIES’ FURS.

BUFFALO AND SLEIGH ROBES.

  Seal
  Coats.

FURS.

  Seal
  Caps.

_etc. etc. etc._

BEST QUALITIES, LARGEST STOCK,

_LOWEST PRICES_,

AT

NAV. C. REISKY,

No. 237 ARCH STREET,

PHILADELPHIA.

_P.S.--I can sell a first-class article 10 per cent. less than any other
fur store in the City._

Shipping Furs bought in season.


[Illustration:

  HARBACH BROS.,
  CONFECTIONERS,

  HARBACH’S ORIGINAL CENTENNIAL NOUGATINES

  ESTABLISHED 1842.

  HARBACH’S
  ORIGINAL WALNUT
  CANDY.

  HARBACH’S
  ORIGINAL
  CONFECTIONS.

  HARBACH’S
  ORIGINAL CARAMEL
  COCOANUT.

  PATENTED MARCH 28, 1871.

  _36 N EIGHTH ST._,
  PHILADA., PA.

_36 N^{TH} 8^{TH} ST. & 807 & 809 FILBERT ST. PHILADA. PA._]

[Illustration]

[Illustration:

  LATEST NOVELTIES
  _and Improvements in_

  SCIOPTICON
  AND 60 SLIDES $75
  AND 100 SLIDES $100
  LATEST IMPROVED

  THEO. J. HARBACH
  IMPORTER
  AND
  MANUFACTURER
  OF SLIDES FOR
  the STEREOPTICON
  _& MAGIC LANTERN_
  _CATALOGUE FREE._
  809 FILBERT ST. PHILA. PA.

  DANCING SKELETON
  TAKES OFF HEAD
  DOUBLE MOVEMENT
  ONLY $5^{00}.

  MAGIC LANTERNS,
  Stereopticons & Slides.]


J. HENRY GERCKE,

[Illustration]

WATCHMAKER AND JEWELER,

1206 Pine Street,

_PHILADELPHIA_,

DEALER IN

Watches, Jewelry, Wedding Rings, etc.

MANUFACTURER OF

Masonic Marks, Society Emblems, etc.

ALSO SPECIAL AGENT FOR THE

CENTENNIAL WATCH,

AND THE

CELEBRATED “56” CHARM.

_Particular attention paid to Repairing._


  ENTERPRISING.
  PROMPT.
  PRACTICAL.

HIRSCH & LARZELERE,

COMMERCIAL PRINTERS,

No. 30 South Fourth St., Philada.

SPECIALTIES:

  BILL-HEADS,
  LETTER-HEADS,
  STATEMENTS,
  LABELS,

CIRCULARS, CARDS, etc. etc.

_Printing in English, German, French, Spanish, and all Modern
Languages._

GIVE US A TRIAL.

  HENRY N. HIRSCH.
  EDWARD HIRSCH.
  SAMUEL M. LARZELERE.


ALLEN SCOTT & CO.,

IMPORTERS,

Wholesale and Retail Dealers in

CARPETINGS, OIL CLOTHS

_etc. etc. etc._,

No. 35

North Second Street,

PHILADELPHIA.

P. E. McKENNA.


Established 1844.

  JOS. McALLISTER.
  WM. F. CARRIGAN.

McAllister & Co.,

MANUFACTURERS OF AND DEALERS IN

FINE WINDOW SHADES,

PLAIN, FIGURED, OR LETTERED, FOR

_Dwellings_, _Stores_, _Hotels_, _Churches_, _Factories_,

ETC. ETC. ETC.

Nos. 17 and 19 N. Second Street,

(_Opp. Christ Church_,)

PHILADELPHIA.

Patentees and Wholesale Agents for

THE NOVELTY

WINDOW SHADE FIXTURE.

_FINE STORE SHADES A SPECIALTY._


HALE, KILBURN & CO.,

SOLE PROPRIETORS AND MANUFACTURERS OF

[Illustration]

The “Champion” Folding Bedstead and Crib.

The “Everitt” Bedstead.

The most complete thing of its kind ever invented. Folded, it is a
perfect imitation of a wardrobe; unfolded, a complete bedstead; is
folded with the bed ready to occupy, and requires but a _moment_ to fold
and unfold.

  Made in every
  Style, from the
  Plainest to the
  most elaborate.

[Illustration: CLOSED.]

[Illustration: OPENING.]

[Illustration: OPEN.]

  The best article
  of furniture
  offered for use
  during the Centennial
  Year.

_Prices to suit all classes, running from $33 upwards._

HALE’S FLEXIBLE TOP SPRING BED.

CLEAN, NEAT, NOISELESS, COMFORTABLE, DURABLE, CHEAP.

[Illustration]

HALE’S FLEXIBLE SEAT CHAIRS, STOOLS, etc. etc.

_Superior in every respect to any other wood or cane seat. Give perfect
satisfaction. Send for descriptive circular and price list._

ALSO, GENERAL MANUFACTURERS OF

Walnut Picture and Looking-glass Frames, Mouldings, Pedestals, Music
Stands, etc. etc.

  BRANCH STORE,
  _613 Broadway_,
  New York.

  SALESROOM,
  _48 & 50 N. Sixth St._,
  Philadelphia, Pa.

  FACTORIES,
  48 & 50 N. 6th St.,
  615-621 Filbert St., Phila.


DENNISON & CO.

Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis.

  _Dennison’s Patent Shipping Tags.
  Cloth, Parchment, and Metal Eyelet Shipping Tags.
  Merchandise Tags for Cloths, Clothing, Dry Goods,
  Hardware, Fancy Goods, Jewelry, etc.
  Gum Labels and Legal Seals, Pin Tickets,
  Fancy Tickets, Artificial Flower Labels,
  Pattern Cards for Woollens._

  _Jeweller’s Paper Boxes,
  Jeweller’s Cards, Pink and White Cotton,
  Fine Twines, Sealing Wax, etc. etc.
  Apothecaries’ Powder Papers and Boxes._

IMPORTERS OF

  _Fine English Tissue Papers Chamois Skins,
  Morocco Ring and Thimble Boxes,
  Sealing Wax, Wood Boxes, etc. etc._

_Sales Agents for McGill’s Goods._

  632 Chestnut St., Philada.
  19 Milk St., Boston.
  202 Broadway, New York.
  150 S. Clark St., Chicago.
  4th & Vine Sts., Cincin.
  110 Pine Street, St. Louis.




[Illustration: THE DIRECTOR-GENERAL AFTER THE EXHIBITION.]




  Transcriber’s Notes


  The language of the source document has been retained, including
  (deliberate or accidental) inconsistencies and misspellings (e.g.
  Livingtone in the Opinions of the Press, CHIL-DLIKE on page 35, ~0007
  on page 37), except as mentioned below.

  Depending on the hard- and software used to read this text and their
  settings, not all elements may display as intended.


  Changes made

  Page headers from the source document have been moved to the start of
  the paragraph where they would appear to fit best, and are given there
  [between square brackets].

  Some obvious minor punctuation and typographical errors have been
  corrected silently.

  Page 79: Forbes of Boston’s hub changed to Forbes of Boston’s tub.



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