One of the gayest groups was arranged on a raised platform in the centre of the hall. This was the Maypole dance, where, holding the ends of bright ribbons, merry-faced dolls danced about two Maypoles, which were festooned with flowers. "How natural!" was the exclamation of each spectator, while the dolls in the balcony looked down on this group as if envying them their good time, and wishing themselves in their places.
Two groups of special interest to the boys—for even boys condescended to visit the doll show—were the football game and the bowling-alley. For the football a ground had been marked off on green baize, and here a lively scrimmage was going on; the make-up of the players was exact, even to the long hair. One poor fellow, who had doubtless been in the thickest of the "rush," was limping off the ground, his clothes torn and muddy, his face stained with blood, and his football hair standing out in every direction. In direct contrast to this scrambling group were the tenpin-players in the bowling-alley. Two were playing—for it was a double alley—while the others stood in order, watching the game and waiting their turn at the bowls, each of them as silent and as grave as the famous tenpin-players of the Kaatskills.
THE CANTERBURY PILGRIMS.
Whoever had read Chaucer's enchanting Canterbury Tales could not fail to recognize in one quaintly attired group the pilgrims on their way to Canterbury, with Chancer riding in their midst. The stately knight was at the head; following him was the "younge squire," and "short was his gown with sleeves long and wide"; and bringing up the rear was the fat and jolly priest. Having seen this merry company, one longed to hear again the charming tales they told at the old Tabard Inn in Canterbury. Next to this Old-World group was what might be called nineteenth-century pilgrims—a band of Salvation-Army lasses marching to the sound of drum, waving their banners, and shouting their "War-Cry."
THE SALVATION ARMY.
The most elaborate group exhibited was called "A Hunt Breakfast" (reproduced at the beginning of this article), representing the annual "meet," when the Duke of Beaufort and the Earl of Bathurst join in a fox-hunt, an event of great importance among English sportsmen. The group surround a breakfast-table spread with every eatable found on an English breakfast-table on a "meet" morning, the food, both in form and color, being an exact imitation. The men were dressed in hunting costumes, the Duke of Beaufort and his huntsmen wearing blue broadcloth coats with buff facings, while the Earl of Bathurst and the "Vale of White Horse" men wore pink broadcloth, the cloth being imported from England expressly for these tiny huntsmen. Both parties wore white twill hunting-breeches and high top hunting-boots, and the latter would have taxed the skill of a fairy's boot-maker. At a side table one of the hostesses was pouring tea, the tea-set being of Dresden china, decorated in pink and blue, the sportsmen's colors. The whole scene was duplicated in a three-panelled mirror at the back, which was twined with holly and evergreens. At either side of the room was arranged an English park scene. Pink water-lilies floated on tiny ponds, statues showed amid the shrubbery, and a background of evergreen gave the appearance of a real wood. This peep at the way English aristocracy amuses itself was originated and arranged by Mrs. Harry Hamlin, of Buffalo, whose husband takes an active part in the well-known Genesee Valley hunts, which were described a short time ago in Harper's Magazine.
The doll which attracted the most attention was one which had come all the way from Paris—where she had just taken a prize at a doll show there—to attend the Buffalo doll show, and see how such things were done in America. From the tip of her fluffy parasol to the toe of her slender boot she was a true Parisian. Her gown was of pink brocaded satin, her coat and high poke bonnet were of moss-green velvet. In one hand she held a lace fan, and in the other a ruffled chiffon parasol, and a point-lace handkerchief peeped from a jewelled shopping-bag which she carried on her arm. Her clothing was not her chief attraction, for Mademoiselle could do wonderful things—for a doll. She turned her head, fanned herself, twirled her parasol, bowed gracefully, winked in a most coquettish manner, and shrugged her shoulders now and then as if the great doll show was all very well for America, but couldn't compare with Paris.
