Assuring him that I would come back promptly, I went out and walked along the foot-board on the side of the boiler, watching the magnificent machine rushing through the landscapes as if glorying in its strength like a living creature. While seated on the cow-catcher platform, I seemed to be fairly flying, and the wonderful display of power and motion was enchanting. This was the first time I had ever been on a train, much less a locomotive, since I had left Scotland. When I got to Madison, I thanked the kind conductor and engineer for my glorious ride, inquired the way to the Fair, shouldered my inventions, and walked to the Fair Ground.
When I applied for an admission ticket at a window by the gate I told the agent that I had something to exhibit.
“What is it?” he inquired.
“Well, here it is. Look at it.”
When he craned his neck through the window and got a glimpse of my bundle, he cried excitedly, “Oh! you don’t need a ticket,—come right in.”
When I inquired of the agent where such things as mine should be exhibited, he said, “You see that building up on the hill with a big flag on it? That’s the Fine Arts Hall, and it’s just the place for your wonderful invention.”
So I went up to the Fine Arts Hall and looked in, wondering if they would allow wooden things in so fine a place.
I was met at the door by a dignified gentleman, who greeted me kindly and said, “Young man, what have we got here?”
“Two clocks and a thermometer,” I replied.
“Did you make these? They look wonderfully beautiful and novel and must, I think, prove the most interesting feature of the fair.”