In the old days the navigators at first crept from headland to headland; then from island to island, and at last Christopher Colon, the intrepid hero of the fifteenth century, conceived the idea of sailing boldly forth into the unknown, secure in his faith in himself and in his fortunes. At least so Philip said in one of his old school compositions. And the boys, having at first touched here and there the points of interest, then took up a few of the outlying State buildings; but now they intended, as Harry boldly put it, to see the elephant from beak to tail-feathers. That is, they planned to enter the Building for Manufactures and the Liberal Arts.
“This mammoth structure,” began Harry at breakfast, in the tone of a dime-museum lecturer, “is steen hundred feet long, and even wider; and is provided with wings on all four corners, if not oftener. It contains the complete contents of the building, and various souvenirs and nickel-in-the-slot machines which are not reckoned in the table of contents. Little boys have been seen to enter at one end, and old men to come out at the other, besides those who went up on the roof; so you can draw your own conclusions.”
“That’s all very well, Harry,” said Mr. Douglass; “but have you been up in that elevator?”
“No, sir.”
“When you go, see if you feel like joking,” Mr. Douglass went on. “I went up in it to-day.”
“It’s raining hard,” said Philip, looking out of the window, “and I haven’t any rubbers.”
GENERAL VIEW OF BUILDING FOR MANUFACTURES AND THE LIBERAL ARTS.
“Nor I,” said Harry; “but I didn’t pack the satchels.”
“Well, we forgot them,” said Mr. Douglass; “so I suppose Philip and I ought to go out and buy some for the whole party.”