Our Show / A Humorous Account of the International Exposition in Honor of the Centennial Anniversary of American Independence, from Inception to Completion, Including Description of Buildings, Biographies of Managers, Receptions of Foreign Dignitaries, Opening Ceremonies, Poem, Oration, Amusing Survey of All Departments, Incidents, Etc., Etc.

Nature always provides for emergencies. The world required steamboats and locomotives, and, lo! a Fulton and a Stephenson appeared to supply the demand. We craved a means of rapid intercommunication, and Mr. Morse sat down and invented his telegraph. We experienced a soaring desire to sail through the air, and George Francis Train stepped forward to inflate our balloons. So, when a lady competent to organize and superintend the workings of her sisters, became requisite to the success of the Centennial project, nature did not desert us. Uprose, as the poet sweetly remarks,LOVELY
WOMAN.

and grasping the banner, Mrs. Emma D.E.N. Gillespie became the special partner of the Board of Finance.

Were we about writing a work in twenty quarto volumes, the kind we have been in the habit of producing, we might faintly hope to do justice to the prodigies accomplished by the noble women of America, and especially by our own Philadelphia ladies. What we do write, however, is the result of personal observation. Blessed with female relatives in esse and in posse, who have been active members of ward committees since the first trumpet tone, we write advisedly; having been snubbed, sacrificed, and made secondary to centennial enthusiasm for three long years, we write with a proper appreciation of the solemn duty in hand.

The dear creatures travelled up to the State-House steeple; they glanced around upon the situation; they rolled up their sleeves, metaphorically, and swooped down upon the city. They canvassed stores and factories from turret to foundation stone; they invaded dingy counting-houses, and sauntered like sunbeams into dusty offices, collecting subscriptions to centennial stock, peddling centennial medals, and doing irreparable damage to the peace of simpering clerks, blushing salesmen, and susceptible employers. A single case will serve for illustration. Listen to the story of

A POOR YOUNG MAN.

“NOT WISELY
BUT TOO WELL.”He was an innocent youth, undergoing initiation into the mysteries of compounding and weighing out sugars, teas, and spices at a West-End grocery. A Spruce Street damsel did the cruel deed. She visited the establishment several times in reference to some shares of stock, and her passing glance sank into his soul. His deep, poetic nature demanded an outlet for the sacred fire. Ætna will burst; Vesuvius will explode. Ætna and Vesuvius were but parlor matches compared to him.

The evening succeeding the lady’s third visit to the grocery, a package, neatly done up in brown paper, was left at her residence by a youth who vanished upon the instant. The lady untied the bundle, and discovered an A. No. 1 salted codfish. The following lines, on pink initial note (slightly greased), were fastened to its tail by a blue ribbon:—

Next evening, about the same time, another package arrived, with another poetic sentiment in the same handwriting:—

The lady was somewhat puzzled, though gratified. Her father was somewhat puzzled, though not gratified. Their quandary was not lessened upon receiving a third delicate present the next evening.

“Can’t never dry up, eh?” said the old man the following evening, as he pulled on his thickest boots, and took up a commanding position on the front-door step. “Can’t never dry up, eh?—we’ll see.”

But the mysterious messenger flanked him by ringing at the back gate.

Another evening came; the old gentleman was again upon the step; the family butcher was sauntering carelessly by the back gate. Alas! in place of the youth, ’twas the grocer himself who called. The butcher did not know him; he obeyed instructions. On the day of the unfortunate man’s funeral these lines were read; they were found in his pocket, and explain the cause of his inopportune visit:—

We will dwell no longer upon this mournful episode, but return to our main subject.

The ladies of the various ward committees did not confine their efforts to canvassing. They worked afghans that nobody wanted, and slippers that nobody could use; purchased desks that wouldn’t open, and pocket-books that wouldn’t shut, and raffled them off at prices as fancy as the goods themselves. They appeared in amateur theatricals and variety shows. Every ward had its ROMEO AND
JULIET.Romeo and its Juliet; every precinct its Lady Macbeth and Wellington De Boots. Their acting was wonderful and awe-inspiring. Audiences gazed upon them in public with dumb amaze, and wept in private, they knew not why. People began to look upon tickets for amateur performances as Japanese officials regard a polite invitation to “Hari Kari.” Call-boys and scene-shifters at regular theatres set up for luminaries. The demoralization of the drama was complete.

But all these things were mere side dishes, to be mentioned incidentally in connection with the combined efforts, viz.:—

“The Great National Tea Party,”

“The Greater International Tea Party,” and

“The Greatest Patent Loan Office Exhibition.”

It is with a feeling of profound diffidence that we allude to them.

THE NATIONAL OR MARTHA WASHINGTON TEA PARTY.

TOAST
AND TEA.Under the supervision of their revered sovereign and her executive star chamber cabinet, the ladies transformed the Academy of Music and Horticultural Hall into one grand coffee house and sandwich caravansary. To save the expense of attendants, the aids themselves dispensed tea and coffee, smiles and gingerbread, bewitching glances and ham sandwiches to the thousands crowding the vast saloons. They attired themselves in old-time fashion to look like so many Mrs. Washingtons. Many a family cheerfully sacrificed its furniture covers to array its daughters in the style of costume made sacred by Martha. They stuck little blotches of black court plaster upon their chins, cheeks, and the tips of their noses, to imitate her venerated pimples, and dipped their heads into the family flour barrel to make their hair look like to hers.

Each ward represented one of the States of our Union, and the rivalry between their tables, though good-natured, was intense. At one table they sold tea made in Martha’s china tea pot; at another table they dispensed slices from a pie having its edges scalloped by her false teeth; while a third overtopped all competition and did an immense business, regaling customers with sausage manufactured from the remains of her pet poodle. The aids who dealt out this luxury seemed conscious of the sacred trust. Tears of patriotism dimmed the lustre of their lovely eyes.

They sold nosegays at the price of small conservatories, but pinned them on coat lappels without extra charge. They did more. With apparent cheerfulness, they accompanied male friends to the hall below, where the band played, and with them hopped and skipped, and glided and dipped, as if they were really enjoying themselves, and not sacrificing comfort to love of country.

The pecuniary result of this affair was most gratifying. The Finance Committee kindly acknowledged this fact to its special partner, requesting her to do so some more and keep the ball rolling. Yet still its grandeur was eclipsed, totally eclipsed, by the next great effort.

THE INTERNATIONAL TEA PARTY.

Between the two tea drinkings, however, a Fête Champêtre was held at Belmont, near the Centennial grounds. We wrote to France, Mrs. Gillespie’s native land, to find out what a fête champêtre meant. THIERS ON
MOONSHINE.Our respected friend Thiers replied. “You go out,” he wrote, “to some nice quiet spot. In the evening you hang a few lanterns on the trees, and leaving the other folks to dance, you yourself wander off with some ‘nearer and dearer one yet than all others,’ to explore the surrounding country, its shadowed nooks and moonlit glens.” Of course we went. But somehow everybody else was leaving the others to dance and seeking moonshine. Never before was there such a demand for nooks and glens since nooks and glens were first invented.

The fête was a perfect success as far as moonshine was concerned, but not pecuniarily. The caterer of the evening is wearing away his days in an insane asylum. Who cares for Champagne when they can have nearer and dearer ones? Who cares for lobster salad when they can have nooks and glens?

A second tea party, to retrieve the reputation of the cabinet, was decided upon. This time, however, instead of representing only our States, all the nations of the earth were to be typified.

Emma R.”

were the suggestive lines with which “General orders 197” terminated.

The aids appeared in the costumes which long theatrical usage has established as nationally characteristic. For three successive evenings, a thing of beauty and a joy for Emma enchanted and astounded throngs of visitors, and would have been continued longer had not everybody unfortunately run out of small change.

Each table was adorned by what the ladies fondly believed to be an unmistakable designating peculiarity. One ward went into business with a few yards of glazed paper and a Noah’s Ark, and reared upYE MIGHTY
ALPS. the mighty Alps. Shem, Ham, and Japhet stared blankly into futurity from the storied peaks; old Noah and his wife looked around in a bewildered manner as though wondering what the genesis they were doing in that locality, while their sheep, goats, cows, elephants, tigers, crocodiles, and whales jumped indiscriminately from crag to crag.

An odor of Swiss cheese, from the sandwiches, made the illusion perfect.

The ladies of another ward had ingeniously built a polar bear with an inner structure of rags covered by variegated cat skins. He was a little lop-sided, but didn’t seem to mind it. He stood serenely upon a looking glass glacier, with tail erect, and the Russian flag between his teeth. The 8th ward (Republic of Lima) made a splendid display of Lima beans, boiled and in soup. The aids were not afraid to say “beans” to anybody.

But the 21st ward (Isle of Man) carried off the prize. This committee had secured, at enormous expense, a live specimen of the native. He was quite docile and harmless; yellow whiskers, and wore eye-glasses. This table was the Mecca to which all the aids flocked when off duty.

Talk about your heroines of revolutionary times! Bah! Do you suppose that Moll Pitcher would have donned striped leggings, a gauze flounce, and a sash around the shoulders, and wandered around like the Amazons in the “Black Crook,” as did Mrs. Vowl of the 20th ward? Would Mrs. John Adams, the wife and mother of presidents, pattern of patriotism as she was—would she have put on spangled breeches and a turban of red, green, and yellow with a turkey’s feather in front, and trotted up and down the Foyer of the Academy with a bucket of lemon peel and water, calling it “sherbet,” and pretending not to notice the excruciating look which distorted the countenances of the unfortunates inveigled into investing in a glass and then feeling compelled to empty it? To these questions there can be but one response. You shall make it.

The result of this festival was also satisfactory to the Finance Committee and to all concerned. The ladies were encouraged to renewed efforts. They racked their brains searching for a novel idea, and when did women rack in vain? They invented a style of exhibition which produced an effect such as the world had not witnessed since the Israelites emptied out Egypt. The war trump sounded: “Gillespie” was the cry. Special orders 774 were promulgated, and that stupendous conception

THE PATENT LOAN OFFICE EXHIBITION

astonished and frightened the land.

Everything was to be borrowed;A LOAN—
AND FROM HOME. nothing bought and still less paid for. The idea was attractive. A wide field was opened for feminine ingenuity. Each aid immediately locked her own umbrella carefully away, and called upon her friends when the weather was cloudy.

The Franciscan Monastery, on Rittenhouse Square, was the largest article loaned to the Committee, they having declined the offer of a Frankford brickyard; and in this building the exhibition was held. Three beautiful gilded balls were extended from the attic window, and on them the neighboring residents gazed in silent rapture. A great demand was created for articles one hundred years old and upwards. Old pots, pans, and dishes were suddenly endowed with incalculable value. We ourselves worked industriously to produce relics. Our aforementioned relations in esse and in posse, acknowledged the loan of an old brick into which we had pounded a new bullet, with a fervor which more than repaid our disinterested patriotism. The sweet smile and kindly glance with which they accepted a pair of old army breeches, which we had purchased for seventy cents and riddled with augur holes, haunts us still. Nay, when we attended the exhibition, and saw an old lady reverently kiss a yellow handkerchief, which we had borrowed from an hostler of our acquaintance, and labelled “Lafayette,” we retired to a side apartment and wept tears of joy. We had afforded that old lady a gratifying reminiscence for the remainder of her existence.

The Washington family came out particularly strong. In a pavilion in the garden, seventeen aged females were seated. They had nursed little George in his baby days. With undisguised emotion they exhibitedGEORGE’S
INDIVIDUAL
CONTRIBUTION. 21 cradles, 66 gum rings, 423 hatchets, and half a bottle of soothing syrup, all of which, they asserted, had been the property of the father of his country during his infantile years. They also possessed among them an aggregate of 34,621 buttons, which they had purloined at different times from the dear child’s vestment.

This was considered as George’s individual contribution.

The remainder of the family were not behindhand. They sent a few of their plates, spoons, forks, ladles, etc.; not many, only about enough to start a first-class hotel. As for family Bibles, they must have had a sufficient quantity to have allowed each member of the family a new one every day of the week and two on Sundays. There were chairs and sofas enough to seat the entire continental army, and about five wagon loads of miscellaneous furniture and chattels. Heavens, what an establishment those Washingtons must have kept!

It would be useless to attempt an enumeration of the wonders on hand and made to order for this occasion. Suffice it to say the ladies borrowed everything they could borrow, and what they couldn’t borrow they—didn’t have.

Two rooms were set apart for broken and unbroken china, which (again in compliment to Mrs. Gillespie’s native tongue) were called Bric a brac apartments.

The exhibition was open to the public for six weeks with a table à la carte in the dining-room. The net profit was close on to seventy-five dollars.

And after all this work, after obtaining from them all these ducats, what did the centennial magnates say to the ladies?

“Ladies,” said they, “we have taken your money; we have urged you to labor; we have induced you, in the person of our special partner, to travel to sister cities to persuade the daughters of our land to make a proper exhibition of their importance and standing in this home of equal rights; but, ah, unfortunately, we shall not be able to allow you any space in our buildings; the old women of China, the aged females of Timbuctoo claim it, and if you want to display that standing and importance we have mentioned, why—ah—here are plans for a building; take them, get up a side show for yourselves, pay for it yourselves, and be—happy.”