Philip walked away and sat down in a corner.
“What’s the matter, Philip?” asked Mr. Douglass—“are you tired?”
“I have been tired all the time I’ve been in the Fair,” said Philip; “but it isn’t that. I am getting mad. I want to see things; I want to learn about them, and remember about them. And there is no chance. It’s like trying to pick out stars in the heavens when you don’t know a thing about astronomy. As soon as you look at one it disappears, and you see another.”
“Well, Phil,” said Harry, “you know we leave for home to-morrow afternoon. Bear up—be brave; it’ll soon be over now. Come and see the ferry-boat with the side taken out so you can understand it—if you have time. Why, you haven’t begun to see anything yet!”
But Mr. Douglass stopped Harry with a warning look; he saw that Philip was really getting tired out. Harry took things more easily, and was less in earnest; but Philip preferred to see things in order, and to study them by system. Excellent as is this rule for ordinary cases, a World’s Exposition must be treated differently. It is possible, of course, to study only one subject in the Fair, and ignore the rest; but no one ever does so. Human nature will not permit of it.
Descending to the main floor they walked up to the model of the Bethlehem steam-hammer that made an arch across the center aisle, and after some reflections upon the statistics attached to this monster, resolutely passed whole platoons of exhibits no visitor should miss.
Mr. Douglass and Harry left Philip to rest awhile upon a settee in one of the side corridors, while they went through the section of the big Atlantic Liner. Beginning at the steerage, they worked their way upward through the office, saloon, smoking-room, and state-rooms until from the upper deck they could see Philip’s disconsolate form far below.
A SECTION OF A STEAMSHIP.
To Mr. Douglass, who had never crossed the ocean in one of these palace steamers, the exhibit was wonderfully interesting; but to Harry it was less of a novelty.