“If you wanted to, Father—” the boy began, and stopped.
“Well?”
“You can get pretty nearly that effect by making models on a small scale, say, an inch to the foot. Then the tree ferns would be ten feet high, the Pteranodons would be two feet and all the other animals would be to scale. If you worked in the perspective and did the lighting the way that it’s done on the stage, people could get almost the same effect as by a big hall.”
The merchant looked thoughtfully at his son.
“That’s a good idea of yours, Perry,” he said.
“It’s not my idea,” the lad rejoined, “there’s a chap who’s worked it out for the Children’s Museum in Brooklyn and the Metropolitan Museum in New York. His stuff is great!”
“I wouldn’t mind spending a little money for a thing like that,” the financier answered. “Models like the ones you’re talking about are just what the small museums ought to have.”
“Big ones, too,” put in Perry.
“Of course. But a considerable part of the funds of the larger museums must be spent on expeditions and scientific work on a broad scale. That’s their main work. But in order to get the public interested—which I think is an important part of a museum’s duty to the people—that model idea catches me about right. Why don’t you have that fellow come on and spend a couple of days with us? I’ll see that it’s worth his while.”
“I’ll ask him like a shot, if you’re willing,” Perry replied. “I’d enjoy it heaps! I’ve never had more fun than I did last summer when you asked that American Museum artist down here. Jumping Jehu, couldn’t he paint!”