He argued back that it was a man, but I wouldn’t multiply any more words with him, and we went on by the broad lawn, or so they called it—though I told Josiah it looked more like velvet than it did like any lawn I ever see. It looked jest like the green velvet I had a bunnet made out of when I was a girl; fresh, and green, and soft, and bright. And there was hundreds of the most gorgeous and brilliant flower beds scattered over it, and ornamental vases runnin’ over with vines and flowers, and evergreens of all sorts; but I can’t describe it and wont try.
I said before, that Horticultural Hall was dream-like in its beauty, but as I got nearer to it I see my mistake; it was fur handsomer. I couldn’t have drempt out such a exquisitely lovely buildin’ if I had gone to sleep a purpose; and so I told Josiah, as we went up the broad blue marble steps, past great century plants and oranges with oranges on ’em, up into a lofty place filled with folks, and flights of the most elegant steps on each side, and tall pillows standin’ up at the foot of ’em, with clusters of lamps on top, and folks a goin’ up and down on ’em—the stairs I mean. Goin’ right in out of the blazin’ sunshine, it seemed to me as if I never did see coolness so cool, and greenness so green, and shade so uncommon shady before. Never did I see such noble and almost foamin’ lookin’ green leaves of all kinds and shapes, from the size of a pusly leaf, to them big enough to make my Josiah a pair of pantaloons and a overcoat.
The floor was sort o’ openwork, with plain stripes runnin’ down through it, sunthin’ as I knit stockins when I want ’em to look uncommon well. But oh! how lovely it did look to me, as I glanced down as fur as I could see ahead of me, to see clear from the floor to away up overhead, the beautiful green branches a spreadin’ out, and the lovely poseys, and over ’em and amongst ’em great bunches of lamps a hangin’ that looked like drops of light as the sun shone through ’em, and stars and ornaments of all kinds, a glistenin’ up there on the lofty ceilin’; and down below there was white marble statutes a gleamin’ and fountains a gushin’ out.
There was one fountain that I took to dretfully. A noble big vase bound with acanthus leaves, was a shootin’ up water, clear as a crystal, and at the foot of it on some rock work, sot three handsome childern jest ready to plunge down into the cool, wet water; one of ’em was blowin’ a shell, he felt so awful neat. There was lots of fountains in the Hall but none so uncommon handsome as this; and that noble fountain was the work of a woman; and as I looked at it, I thought I should be proud and happy to take her by the hand and say:
“Miss Foley, I too am a woman, I am proud to sympathize with you.”
A good lookin’ woman, dressed up slick, with a little book and pencil in her hand spoke up and says to me:
“It is wonderful, haint it?”
Says I, “Wonderful haint no name for it.”
“That’s so;” says she, and added, “have you seen the phantom leave?” or sunthin’ like that.
Says I, firmly, “There haint been no phantom here appearin’ to me, and how could I see it leave?” Then thinkin’ of my vow, and likin’ her looks first-rate, I says in a encouragin’ tone, “There has somebody been a tryin’ to fool you mom, there haint no such things as ghosts and phantom’ses. Ghosts and phantoms are made of moonshine, and fear and fancy are the makers of ’em.”