I must say though that Truth didn't have any clothes on, she wuz jest settin' there on top of the world jest as naked as she could be, she could have wore one of my bib aprons as well as not, durin' the Fair anyway, whilst there wuz so many folks round and she would have looked enough sight better to me and been jest as truthful. But howsumever I knew she wuz likely, her face wuz innocent and beautiful.
As I said it is some of the pictures and statutes that stand out clearest in my memory, but there wuz everything else there admirable and choice in art, paintings in oil, wax; on canvas, wood, enamel, metal, fresco paintings on walls and ceilings. Water colors, chalk, pastel, ivory, pyrography. Engravings, etchings, figgers in marble, metal, plaster. Carvings in ivory, stone, wood, etc. Architectural designs of all kinds; mosaics; art work in glass, earthen ware, leather, metal; artistic book binding and etc., etc., etc., and I might spread these out into volumes.
And didn't my soul jest spread her wings here in delight, to speak in flowery language. What pictures of beauty dawned on my rapt eyesight, faces sweet as wuz ever dremp on, sad faces, tragic faces, old faces and young faces; children sweet and bonny as wuz ever seen. Youth and love, age and manhood and gratified ambition, princes and paupers, life and death.
Landscapes full of the dewy freshness and joy of the morning, night seens dark and full of mystery and melancholy. Mountain and valley, hill and dale, ocean and rivulet. Every phase of human joy and sorrow wuz depictered there, and every phase of peaceful and warlike life. It wuz a sight. If I could stayed there a year right in them walls I might have got round mebby and seen what I wanted to and as long as I wanted to.
But of course this wuzn't to be, for one thing the Fair would be closed before and then Josiah wouldn't gin his consent anyway. He got kinder worrisome as it wuz and didn't want to stay so long as we did, and after a hour or so I compromised with him, gin him nut cakes occasionally and anon when we would enter a new gallery he would set down by the door till I had got through lookin'.
As I said some of the pictures and statutes clung to my memory as if they'd been throwed at my mind so powerful that they jest stuck there and couldn't be dislodged even by all the later multitude of sights throwed over 'em.
There wuz one by Whistler full of the subtle mystery that he wrops round his figgers. Why you know he has painted one that to them that are sympathetic, the Little Lady in Black, will walk right out of the picture and come towards 'em, time and agin she's done it, I'm tellin' the truth that can be proved.
In the "Mystery of the Night," the female figger dimly discerned through the veil of mist seems the incarnation of the mystery of sky and sea, the infinite solemnity, and peace and loneliness of the night.
There wuz pictures that made you happy, and some that sort o' sent a chill to your sperit, like Millais' "Chill October," as you looked at it you almost felt the chill, mournful breeze that you knew wuz sweepin' along.
Some queer pictures like the "Ghost Dance" kinder lingered in the vestibule of your mind. You know your mind has got more different rooms in it than any house that wuz ever built, and some pictures and folks don't git into the very inmost rooms; they never git furder than the doorstep.