“Where next?” said Harry, at the same time taking a deft snap-shot at some little folks in the road before the door.
“Germany comes next,” answered Philip, holding up a fluttering map.
“Sprechen Sie deutsch?” said Harry. “If you do, come along.”
Entering the imposing German Building, they found at last some of the foreigners as to whom they had been inquiring. No sooner were they inside the door than guttural accents assured them that there were foreigners at the great World’s Fair. The hallway was full of German publications, and in a lower story were many religious figures, modeled life-size and colored. Taking a stairway to the right, the boys came to a lofty mechanical clock, called a “Passion Play Clock,” because figures, moved by machinery, went through a representation of the crucifixion. They heard a woman say, “Oh, I wish it was going! Don’t you?” Then they descended the stairs again, and, returning to the main hall, they noticed a very beautiful stained-glass window at the further end. The middle panel showed Christ walking on the water, and those above and below contained modern steamships. A placard stated that the window was to be presented to the Naval Academy at Annapolis.
Coming out, they were met by a puzzled woman, who inquired in a dazed way:
“Where is that Anthropo—I don’t know the name?”
“’Way down at the other end, madam,” answered Philip, politely raising his cap. To which the woman responded despairingly, “Oh, my!” and wandered off.
INDIA HOUSE.
“They never get much beyond ‘Anthropo,’” said Harry; “and I don’t blame them. I heard one of the guides the other day confidently call it ‘Anthro-polo-logical’ and look proud. But this isn’t photography,” and he turned his back to the sun and held his camera in readiness. Snap! went the shutter, and then they walked on.