“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.