Harry’s route to his hotel lay through the usual throng of men whose one object in life was to make people buy “a splendid meat supper for twenty-five cents!” His legs felt like stilts, and he walked only because he had become so used to it that he could not stop.

As it was still an hour or two before their usual dinner-time, Harry went up to his room, intending to lie down for a while. When he asked at the counter for the key, the clerk told him that his friend “with the eye-glasses” was already in their room.

Harry found Philip lying on the bed, tired but looking contented.

“Why, you’re home early,” said Harry, in surprise. “I thought you were going to spend the whole day in the Art Gallery.”

“So I was,” said Philip, rising to make room for the later arrival. “I started for there. Where have you been?”

“Oh, to the Government Building, the man-of-war, the convent, the caravels—and a lot more,” said Harry, as he flung himself upon the bed, first having made himself comfortable by removing his jacket and shoes.

“Did you like it?”

“Like it? Of course I liked it, old slowcoach! But it’s too much like being invited to two Thanksgiving dinners—enough is better than two feasts.”

“What did you see?” asked Philip.

“See here, Phil,” said Harry, smiling mischievously; “do you think I am unable to take a view through a millstone with a hole in it? You needn’t think you can put me off by asking questions. What I want to know is why you didn’t get to the Art Building. It’s not small, you know; you could hardly have passed it without noticing it. Come, out with it, young fellow.”

“To tell the truth,” said Phil reluctantly, but laughing good-naturedly, “I started out all right, for I looked up the way in the guide-book. I found that the cheapest and quickest plan was to take the railway on the grounds—the Intra—something; yes, the Intramural, which means ‘within the wall.’”

“So it does,” answered Harry. “Great thing to know Latin. But fire away. I can see there is more in this Fair than a whole brigade of boys can see. Let’s hear what you did.”

“I took the railway, climbing a lot of steps, and we started. They had signs to tell one where to go, but I couldn’t read them very well, and so I went whizzing along without altogether understanding where I was. The stations they called out meant nothing to me, and I had an idea it took a good while to get across the grounds; and—to make it short—I was looking at the view, first one side, toward the hotels, and then the other, toward the Fair Buildings, and I didn’t wake up to my position till the conductor said, ‘Going round again, young man?’ So I got off, for there I was at the same station I got on at. You see, the conductor had noticed me because I sat near where he stood.”

“That’s a good one on you!”

“I know it. But I didn’t like to start over again, so I came down the steps and walked over across the Court of Honor, along by the Agricultural Building, till I came to the caravels and the convent. I saw those, but so did you. I went next to the Krupp gun exhibit by the lake. That gun was enormous! I believe all the gunners could get inside when it rained. They had a printed label on it, and at first I read it: ‘Please set off the gun’; but I knew that wasn’t likely, so I went nearer, and found it said ‘keep’ instead of ‘set.’ Oh, by the way, just before I went in there, I stopped in the doorway and saw some men diving from a tremendous height, out in the lake,—a much higher tower than the one they dived from on the fête night. I also saw in the Krupp building a pretty little model of the house the great gunmaker lived in when he began.”

“What was it like?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just a little square thatched house; but you could see the tiny furniture through the windows. I didn’t stay long there, for they were sprinkling the floor, and it was sloppy.

“Next I went into the Leather Exhibit Building; but there were mostly shoes and things there, and I didn’t see very much I cared about, except some buckskin suits labeled ‘indestructible.’ I would have liked one of those, except that it was trimmed with silver lace.”

“A little gaudy for you,” said Harry.

“Yes, but they were fine. So, seeing signs telling people to go up into the gallery where shoes were being made, I went up. I heard machines making a racket, but all I saw was the backs of the other people who got there first.”

“I know,” said Harry; “I made a sketch of one of those very exhibits.”

“Now, where did I go next? Let me see the map—it’s there by you.”

Harry passed over the little plan of the grounds, and Philip examined it a moment. Then he went on:

“I see now. I meant to go into the Forestry Building, but on the way I caught sight of some things in the Anthro—”

“—Thropo-pop-o-ological,” interrupted Harry. “It’s a nice word to say when you’re in a hurry.”

“Yes,” Philip replied, “that was it; so I went in there. And I tell you, you mustn’t miss that. It’s fine. It has everything in it.”

“So they all have,” said Harry, hopelessly.

“But there are gymnasium things, and African weapons, all sorts of savage huts and costumes, Greek statues, and views, and bits of work from the prisons and reformatories, showing how boys are drilled and trained to work at trades. But, as usual, I didn’t think I could see everything, and so I looked at only a few special cases. One that I remember well showed all sorts of games and puzzles—chess, cards, checkers, halma, pachisi, Indian sticks for throwing like dice, the fifteen puzzle, ring puzzles, wire puzzles, all sorts. The chessmen were splendid. There was one Chinese set there, where the pieces stood on pedestals showing three balls carved one inside the other; and the pieces themselves were little mandarins and things, with faces, and beards, and all. There were enough games in the cases for a boy to learn a new one every day as long as he lived.”

“Well?” asked Harry, as Philip paused.

“You don’t want me to tell it all, do you?” Philip asked.

“If you will,” said Harry. “My ears are the only things about me that are not tired; and I am resting the rest of me.”

“All right,” said Philip; “I’m willing. I am so full of it, I could talk a week. But I remember now there was one place I went before the Anthropo Building, and that was to a real log cabin, with all the regular old-fashioned things in it; but never mind, I won’t go back to that, for I’ve a lot more to tell, and one thing I know you’ll like to hear about specially.

“The next queer thing was the Cliff-dwellers’ mound, a big structure, made to look like red rock,—sandstone, maybe,—in which these old Indians in the Southwest used to live. I didn’t go into it, although a lot of signs said I ought to; but I saw how the little caves were hollowed out and made into huts, with doors and windows. While I was looking up at it—and it is a high cliff, I tell you!—I saw some nuns all in black climbing over it, and that was a strange sight enough. Out in front were some gray little donkeys,—‘burros,’ used by the exploring party that found the caves. Then I went on to an old-time distillery, outside of which was a real ‘moonshiner’s’ still that had been captured by the revenue officers.

“Then I came to some Alaskan houses. They were made of great rough slabs, with circular doors cut through the trunks of trees in front. There were little models of them in the Anthropo place, too. In front of them stood those carved totem-poles that we used to see in the physical geography book. I saw by the labels on the models that those poles were meant to tell the history of the man in the house behind each one, and that the more rings there were on the carved man’s high hat, the more of a fellow the owner was. There seemed to be lots about whales on them. I suppose capturing a whale was to them like being elected to Congress—maybe harder.

“But, speaking of whales, the next thing I saw was the one I want to tell you specially about. Near the shore there, in what they call the South Pond, was an old-fashioned vessel. I walked over toward it, and read the signs. They said it was a whaling-vessel, a regular old New Bedford whaler. You know about those?”

“I guess I do,” said Harry. “I remember reading ‘Peter, the Whaler,’ and a lot more books like it.”

“Well, at first I wasn’t going in, for they charged a quarter, and there didn’t seem to be many going on board. I was afraid it was not good for anything, but at last I made up my mind to risk twenty-five cents on it. I bought my ticket and climbed the gang-plank. There were just two other men on board besides the sailor in charge.”

“‘Two other men’ is good,” remarked Harry.

“You know what I mean. When we got up on deck, the sailor came forward to speak his little piece. He said if we wanted to know how they caught whales he’d tell us. Then he went on with the whole thing, from ‘Thar she blows!’ down to the cutting up and trying-out of blubber.

“I had often read about it, but I tell you, Harry, it was different to see him hold up the harpoon and the lance, the gun for firing a big harpoon and all. And then we saw the vats for boiling the oil. And he said that out of the whale’s head they could dip up whole barrels of clear oil; but the whalebone was the thing they were after nowadays. He said they sometimes got thousands of dollars’ worth out of the mouth of one whale.

“After he finished telling about whaling, he invited us below, to see a collection of marine curiosities they had on board. It was a regular old-style ship, with the beams coming close down to your head. All around were cases of curious things—real sailors’ oddities: carved teeth and shells, swords from sword-fish, idols, weapons, tools—whatever a sailor could collect. One thing I remember was a harpoon-head that had been bent and twisted around itself by a whale till it looked like a scrawl in a copy-book. Then we went forward to the forecastle, to see the queer little bunks where the men sleep.

“As I was coming away I bought a little book telling all about the old ship; and it is interesting, I tell you. I haven’t read it all yet, but one adventure of that ship the sailor told us about.

“She was out with a big fleet, more than thirty, and she was one of the six that got out from an ice-pack. Then a boat came along after, and reported the rest of the ships as wrecked. The ‘Progress’—that’s the one I’m telling about—and the other saved vessels threw all their valuable cargo over and took in the poor fellows from the ice. That was what I call square. You can read all about it later. Wouldn’t you like to?”

There was no answer. Philip turned to look at Harry more closely, and found that the tired boy had fallen fast asleep.

“It’s all right for him to go to sleep,” said Philip to himself, “but I wish he’d say so when he does it; then I’d know when to stop.”

Harry awoke in time for dinner. Mr. Douglass had mailed a number of letters, and he and the boys went to the table together. They found that their walks had given them the best of appetites, and they enjoyed seeing the people at the various tables around them. Mr. Douglass spoke of the excellent appearance made by the crowds, and of their good-humor.

“I was in the Fair Grounds for a short time this afternoon,” he said, “and I found myself noticing the people quite as much as the curious things around me. If one ran against another, there was never any ill-humor or crossness. Usually both apologized politely. And yet in many places the crowds were enormous. Again and again I would look ahead of me, and think that I couldn’t get through the throng.”

“I noticed that, too,” said Philip; “but the spaces are big and the people keep moving, so somehow one always finds a place to pass.”

“I tell you what I liked,” said Harry; “and that was the little drinking-fountains, where you drop a penny and get a glass of spring water. I found them very welcome.”

“And the popcorn!” said Philip. “I don’t like it much, but I saw it everywhere. Why, you could smell it in the air sometimes; and every now and then you would hear a crackle-crackle, snap-snap, and there would be a popper full of dancing corn over hot coals.”

“Yes, I saw them,” said Mr. Douglass. “I found it very interesting to talk to the people. Now and then, when I wished to rest awhile, I would sit down on a bench; and pretty soon a man would come up and drop into a seat beside me. Then, in a minute, one of us would say: ‘It’s a fine day,’ or something of the kind, and, without difficulty, a little talk would begin. One man I met told me he was from Massachusetts, and cultivated tobacco. We had a very pleasant conversation, and gave each other advice about what to see. I think this Fair will do a great deal to bring people together.”

“It has already,” said Harry, solemnly. “I have seen a number come together even to-day. Where did you go this afternoon, Mr. Douglass?”

“I went to the Art Gallery part of the time,” the tutor replied. “But I found it, like the other buildings, too overwhelming—whole rooms full of masterpieces of painting and sculpture; something demanding at least a glance wherever one looked. I found I could not stay long. Walking about and looking upward and downward, and from side to side, is more than any one can endure very long. Besides, the pictures are so good that they make one both think and feel keenly, and that is tiring, too. So after about two hours I surrendered, and came out. I walked along the lake shore during part of my way back, purposely avoiding any sights of especial interest.”

“What shall we do to-morrow?” asked Philip.

“Whatever you please,” answered the tutor. “Perhaps you might do some photographing, Philip.”

“I’d like to, but I hardly know where to begin.”

“Suppose,” said Harry, “that we all three go to the Midway Plaisance? It’s a splendid place to get pictures.”

“But I hear,” said Philip, “that you can’t do very much photographing there. You can get a permit for the Fair Grounds, but the Plaisance exhibits are outside of the Fair’s control, and you have to secure special permissions there.”

“We might try it,” said Mr. Douglass. “You have brought your big kodak, haven’t you?”

“Yes, with a new roll of forty-eight films in it,” said Philip. “But I shall have to take outdoor scenes, for there’s little chance to give time-exposures.”

“Well, suppose that we hire chairs to-morrow—the rolling-chairs, you know. One can hire either double chairs or single ones; and then we three will be wheeled out to the Midway Plaisance. There we will let the chairs go, and see what we can do. How do you like it, Harry?”

“Oh, it suits me,” said Harry. “To tell the truth, I should like to go there soon, for there are so many really foreign scenes in the streets and villages that it may be I can get some good little sketches. At all events, I’d like to go to the Wild Animal show, and see it all. I met a boy to-day, while I was at lunch, who said that it beat any circus he ever saw.”

“There are a number of absurd cheap shows on the Midway,” said Mr. Douglass, “at least, so the guide-books say; but we can go to the best of them, and let the others alone. I find that the people (as I have told you) are more interesting to me than are most of the exhibits, and the Plaisance is always crowded.”

The party had finished dinner, and they went up to their rooms; Philip got out his camera, and looked it over, to be sure all was in working order. Harry laid out his sketch-book and an extra pencil. Mr. Douglass, as he usually did, read over his guide-books, and made up his accounts. But all three went early to bed.