“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 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 REACHED
AT LAST.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
American Bankers’ and Brokers’ Association,POPULAR
TABLEAUX.
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.