The next morning Uncle Jeremiah was up as usual at four o'clock, chafing
like a caged stable horse that could not get out to fresh air and the
tempting pastures.
[Illustration: "I THINK OF EARTHQUAKES EVERY TIME I LOOK OUT."]
"These confounded people won't let a fellow have his meals only at their
own convenience, and the feelin' of earthquakes keeps a growing on me
every time I look down out of that window. I've got to quit it." Aunt
Sarah shared the same feeling, but John and Fanny decided that it was
not half as high as they wanted to go before they left Chicago.
[Illustration: "Say, Mister, I've paid fare once on this tarnal
machine."]
In due time the city awoke, with a rush and a roar, to the business of
the day. Uncle found the office of the boarding house syndicate a few
doors away, and the family were soon safely housed in more congenial
quarters.
"The Fair, Father, the Fair! When will we ever get to see the Fair? I
just heard a man say that it's ten o'clock, and here we are a-fussing
about in the rooms and missin' the sights."
Johnny was impatient, but not long after, the family hailed a passing
street car and were on their way at last.
"Twenty cents is the fare for four of you."
The conductor rang the fares and passed on. The new scenes of the city
absorbed their attention, but Uncle soon began shifting in his seat, and
at last whispered to Aunt Sarah: "Say, I noticed that we went clear
'round a hull lot of blocks, and it 'pears ter me that we air goin'
right backards to where we ought to go, or else this 'ere town has got
two parts a blamed sight alike."
"Fare, please!"
"Say, Mister, I've paid fare once on this tarnal machine. How often do
you have to pay--every once in a while?"
"Are you riding around for your health, or do you want to go somewhere?"
"That's it, Mister, exactly. I wish you'd drive this riding machine at
once to the World's Fair. You've got it pasted on the front of your
engine, and yet you're takin' us right back past where we got on."
"Sure, old man, you're all right, only you got on a car going the wrong
way, and so went on around the loop. But you're all right now. I'll land
you at the grounds; but twenty cents, please."
Twenty cents were forthcoming, and shortly the family found themselves
in a maze of booths, people, streets and vehicles. It was not difficult
to follow the crowd, and in a few minutes the amazed family were walking
the streets of the great White City.
"Guides, World's Fair Guides!"
Uncle stopped a moment as a boy planted himself in front of him, thus
calling him from the amazement of the wonderful city down to the
realities of the earth.
[Illustration]
"Guides, Mister, only twenty-five cents. This little book contains all
you want to know about yonder lovely city--for the price of one small
quarter you have a key to all the doors of the Fair--with this book no
Columbian guard can call you down--you are free and independent of
everybody with this book in your hands--it's only a quarter, remember,
only twenty-five cents! Illustrated, tells you everything."
"That's it Sarah, let's buy one of these books and go home. It tells us
every thing and it is illustrated. What's the use of wearing our eyes
out and our feet off when we can learn it all out of this feller's book.
I feel all done up on the first sight. It's too big a job fer me to
undertake. I didn't calculate on such a big show."
"No, my boy. I wish I could accommodate ye but you see I ain't got no
time on the grounds for reading or I'd a brought the Scriptures along. I
judge it prophesied this when it spoke of signs and wonders appearing."
"Only a quarter, sir."
Uncle shook his head, but Fanny produced a quarter and took one of the
books.
Near by was a booth where camp stools were to be leased.
"That is what Sarah and I will need. These young ones can walk all day."
Directly Johnny had a folded camp chair in each hand and they went on
following the crowd toward the Administration building. They did not go
inside as most of the people did but continued on around till the basin
between the Peristyle and the Administration building appeared in view.
Through the columns of the Peristyle at the far end of the basin they
could see the blue lake meeting the summer clouds; above them rose the
dome of the Administration building till it seemed almost to pierce the
clouds. They were looking upon a scene never before excelled in grandeur
by the art of man. The basin was filled with gondolas gracefully plied
by Venetians, launches moving both by steam and by electricity and gay
sailboats of every description. In the far end of the basin was to be
seen the Statue of the Republic sixty-five feet tall and standing forty
feet above the water on its great stone foundation. The MacMonnies
fountain was roaring with the fall of water and the heroic figures of
Columbia enthroned in her triumphal barge guided by Time and heralded by
Fame was outlined against the Agricultural building. From the dome of
that massive structure, exhibiting the produce of our land, Diana with
her drawn bow seemed to be aiming directly at them.
"Let us sit down," said Aunt, as the first wave of the wonderful vision
passed over them.
"I feel more like saying, let us kneel down," said Uncle.
Fanny read from the front of the Administration building the
inscriptions there about Columbus and his work.
High over the north entrance were the words:
"Columbus received from Ferdinand and Isabel, Sovereigns of Spain, a
commission as Admiral of an exploring fleet, April 30, 1492."
Over the east entrance she read:
"Columbus sailed from Palos with three small vessels, Aug. 3, and landed
on one of the Bahama Islands."
What common-place facts so simply stated! But they brought forth
thoughts and emotions greater and greater of the wonderful consequences
to mankind.
"Grandpa, you see how we have come here to learn of the world and its
progress to this greatness."
"Do not speak to me now, child; I want to think," and Uncle bowed his
head in his hands.
No one said anything for a few minutes, when Johnny startled them by
yelling "Gorgeous! gorgeous!"
"Of course it's gorgeous," said Fanny; "but you needn't yell that way.
You must not forget that you are not in our barnyard now."
Johnny subsided. He had expressed his opinion, and he was ready to move
on.
Uncle arose and said: "I guess we are able to go to the next scene now,
and I warn you all that the word gorgeous is as high as we will be
allowed to go in expressing ourselves, no matter what we see. There has
got to be a limit somewhere, and I judge that gorgeous is far enough."
"Is that the statyure of Mrs. Columbus?" asked Johnny.
"No, it's the Statue of the Republic."
"I declare I've been watching them things on that Statue of the
Republic, and I really believe they're men instead of being pigeons."
"They are men," said Fanny. "No wonder that they look so little, for the
book here says her forefinger is four feet long. Look at that figure on
the top of the big building yonder. That Is Diana, the huntress. How
tall do you think she is?"
"Nine feet," said Johnny, promptly.
"Life-size," said Uncle.
"Both wrong. The book says she is eighteen feet tall."
"Well, well, my girl, this looks like a dream, but it ain't, is it?"
There was a band-stand in front of them, and beyond that was a massive
building, which Fanny found was Machinery hall. As they went on to it,
Fanny read to them that it covered over twenty acres of ground and cost
nearly a million and a half dollars. As they entered the door they saw
one awful mass of moving machinery.
Uncle said he thought they had better sit down again and think awhile
before venturing further, but Johnny urged them to come on so they could
see something and do their thinking afterward.
They came to one of the doors of the power house, and Uncle sat down.
"I can't stand this pressure," he said, "I tell you I've got to sit down
and look at this thing." At his left he could see into the power house
nearly five hundred feet long and full from one end to the other of
great boilers with the red fires glowing underneath.
On the right he looked across the hall where the great power wheel was
flying and saw five hundred feet of whirling wheels, while before him
there was an unobstructed view of machines but little short of a
thousand feet.
They went over to the middle aisle and on past the larger machinery.
"Why Grandma, you are walking by me with your eyes shut. What's the
matter?"
"Well you see, Fanny, it's too much to look at so many millions of
things so I just shut my eyes and think. What's the difference if I do
miss a few thousand sights."
"That's so, Fanny, we aint got used to looking yet. It looks like they
had everything a working here but my old shaving horse. I wouldn't be
surprised any minute to see that it had walked away from the woodshed
and come over to show itself off in this here exposition. I believe I'll
go over and offer them my old barlow knife. It's a score of years old
but it'll bore a hole for a hame string all right yet."
They came to the place where they were making watches with the complex,
automatic machinery that defies the eye to detect its movements, then
there was the sewing machine with a man riding it like a bicycle and
sewing carpet in strips a hundred feet long. There were knitting
machines and clothing machines, and carving and molding machines, and
type-setting machines, till the day was spent and they had seen only how
much there was to see.
"It takes taste to paint pictures, and art to make sculpture, and mind
to write books, and genius to carry on war, but I tell you, my girl,"
said Uncle, "that it takes brains to make machinery."
Passing through a south door they went on around Machinery hall. Some
working men were passing by singly or in twos and threes. One had a
wrench in one hand and a queer looking bottle in the other. The
ludicrous side of the exposition now began to appear. Nothing can become
so great that amusing things will not occur. They are the relaxations of
mental life. One of the guards saw the man and his bottle.
"Hi, there," he shouted. The workman came to a stop, the bottle being
ostensibly concealed behind his apron. "What are you bringing beer into
machinery hall for?"
"I ain't got any beer," replied the workman.
"Don't tell me any such stuff. You've got a bottle under your apron."
[Illustration: "The Guard was determined to do his duty."]
"No I haven't," and the culprit as if by accident let a portion of the
bottle drop into sight. The guard made a grab for it and held it up
before the seemingly confused workman.
"I'll just take you to the station-house," declared the officer. "What
did you mean by telling me you had no beer?"
"It ain't beer. It's--it's--ginger ale."
The prisoner was lying. That was evident to the guard. At the same time
he did not want to be placed in the position of disobeying orders
against making trivial arrests. He knew by the color of the liquid it
was not ginger ale. A brilliant thought came to him. He would test the
beer and thus have the evidence. But here a difficulty was encountered.
While the rule prohibiting employees from bringing intoxicants into the
grounds is a strict one, there is a much severer regulation against
guards tasting the stuff while on duty. What if his sergeant should see
him with a bottle of beer to his lips! To meet this obstacle the guard
led his prisoner to a secluded place behind a big packing case, and
after looking fearfully around hastily uncorked the bottle and sent a
huge swallow of the contents down his throat.
The result was unexpected so far as the blue coat was concerned. With a
howl of anguish he dropped the bottle. Both eyes started from his head
and his face turned to ashen paleness as he danced about the floor
shrieking "I am poisoned." Finally he sank down with a moan and the men
attracted by his cries carried him to a bench and laid him down. On the
edge of the human circle about him the guard beheld the face of his
prisoner. Beckoning him to his side the guard feebly said, "What was
that stuff in the bottle?"
"Lard oil and naphtha," replied the workman.
The guard was removed to the hospital, while the workmen were laughing
their heartiest. In an hour the stricken officer was back at his post.
That afternoon, as the family climbed the stairs to the station on their
way back to the hotel, Uncle Jeremiah was a study to the student of
human nature. The size of the Exposition had dazed and awed him. He wore
a neat paper collar with an old-fashioned ready-made necktie pushed
under the points. The slouch hat was down over his ears, as a heavy wind
was tearing across the high landing. His manner was that of one
oppressed by a great sorrow. He looked at the turrets and domes and the
hundreds of dancing flags and shook his head solemnly. When the people
around him gabbled and pointed their fingers and piled up the same old
adjectives he glanced around at them timidly and then stepped softly
away where he could gaze without being interrupted. After boarding the
car he stood up between the seats and held on to the railing. At each
curve of the track, as new visions swung into view, he shook his head
again and again, but said nothing. He had been for a good many years
taking in a daily landscape of stubble-field, orchard and straight
country roads. His experience had taught him that a red two-story hay
press was a big building. To him the huddle of huckster stands at the
county fair made a pretty lively spectacle. Then he was rushed into
Chicago. With the roar of wheels still in his ears and the points of the
compass hopelessly mixed, he found himself being fed into the Exposition
gate with a lot of strange people. The magnitude of the great enterprise
was more than any intellect could fully grasp. His mind perceived so
much that was strange and new that he became as that one who saw men as
trees walking. His eyes were opened to a new world. He was now a living
part of the intellectual vision and prophecy of the "Dream City."
_CHAPTER III_