THE CROWD COMING
IN WITH LUNCHES.
From the steps of the Mining Building the boys looked over toward the “Golden Doorway” of the Transportation Building, and made up their minds that it looked promising. By this time the white buildings had made them glad of the fancy harlequin costume worn by the autumnal-colored member of this interesting family. They liked even the angels painted along the walls, and as for the brakeman, “Mr. Land,” they thought he appeared to be a young fellow well worth knowing.
So they entered with a readiness to enjoy whatever they should find. But they soon discovered there was no need to make excuses for the Transportation Building, and before long they carried out to the letter Harry’s punning prediction, “Now we shall go into transports!”
They had missed so much at other times by leaving the galleries to the last that this time they went at once up the stairs. But on the landing they turned to take a view of the Lord Mayor’s Coach, an elegant turnout, as fine as a fiddle, which made the boys think at once of poor little Dick Whittington.
It was Harry’s proposal to go into the gallery, and he was led to make it because there were set upon the gallery-railing two bicycles, ridden by dummy figures of a young man and a young woman. Harry liked bicycles, and meant some day to have “a beauty”; and he thought this was a good opportunity to get points.
FIGURE OF BRAKEMAN,
TRANSPORTATION BUILDING.
He got points; in fact, he picked so many points that he couldn’t remember them, for there were bicycles enough in the gallery to bend all the backs in a city into the letter “C.” But before examining these, the whole party were glad to give some time to Mrs. French-Sheldon’s camping-outfit and traveling sedan-chair. Shortly described, it was just a basket on poles, but it was sumptuously fitted up with cushions and awnings, and most ingeniously contrived so as to be light, comfortable, and convenient.
“She’s the woman who collected all those odd things we saw in the Woman’s Building,” said Philip.
“Yes, I remember reading about her in the papers,” said Harry. “She carried a fine silk dress with her, and always put it on when she received a native ruler. She seemed to think they liked it. But I have my doubts. I believe old Sultan Alkali Ben Muddy would grin when he was climbing back on his camel, and say to his first camel-driver, ‘The white woman is plucky, but I must say she puts on a lot of style!’”