Above the main entrance is a large paintin' representin' a scene in Lapland. Inside the inclosure are the huts of a Lapland Village, with the Laps all there to work at their own work.
What a marvellous change for them! Transported from a country where there is eight months of total darkness, and four months of twilight or midnight sun, and so cold that no instrument has ever been invented to tell how cold it is.
When the frozen seas and ice and snow is all they can see from birth till death.
I wonder what they think of the change to this dazzlin' daylight, and the grandeur and bloom of 1893!
But still they seem to weather it out a considerable time in their own icy home.
King Bull, who is in Chicago, is one hundred and twelve years old, and is a five great-grandpa.
And most of the five generations of children is with him here. But marryin' as they do at ten or twelve, they can be grandpa a good many times in a hundred years, as well as not.
In this village is their housen, their earth huts, their tepees, orniments, reindeers, dogs, sledges, fur clothin', boats, fishin' tackle, etc., etc.
As queer a sight as I ever see, and here it wuz agin, my Josiah and me a-journeyin' way off in Lapland—the idee!