Kitabı oku: «Elsie at the World's Fair», sayfa 6

CHAPTER XI

Monday morning found all on board the Dolphin feeling well, bright, and ready to enjoy a further examination of the wonders and beauties of the White City beside the lake. As usual the question which of them all should claim attention first, came up for discussion at the breakfast table.

"I for one would like extremely to pay a visit to Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show," said Walter. "I think my little nephew and niece would enjoy it too, and possibly older folks might find some amusement there also."

"Oh, what is it, Uncle Walter?" asked Ned eagerly. "I'd like to see some buffaloes."

"Well, so you will if we go," replied Walter, "for there's a herd of them to be seen there. It is outside the Exposition grounds, but worth going to see, I should think. There are rifle experts, bucking ponies, dancing dervishes, athletes, female riders, besides American, German, French, English, Cossack, Mexican, and Arabian cavalry, to say nothing of cowboys, and other attractions too many to mention."

"Oh!" cried Ned, "I want to go. Can't I, papa?"

"All alone?" asked his father laughingly. "No, my son, I fear you are rather young for that."

"Oh, no, papa; I didn't mean all alone. But won't you take mamma and Elsie and all the rest, and me too?"

"Yes, if mamma and all the rest want to go."

"There are two hundred Indians there, Ned. Won't you be afraid of them?" asked Lucilla.

"No, Lu; not with our papa along to take care of us. If you're afraid, I s'pose you can stay on the Dolphin here till we come back."

"Thank you, Ned," she said laughing; "but I believe I feel quite as safe where papa is as you do. And I think I should like to see that show myself, though I'm neither a baby boy like you, nor a sixteen year old laddie like Walter."

"No, not a boy at all; only a girl. I'm glad I was made a boy so I can grow up into a man like papa."

"I'd rather be a woman like mamma and Grandma Elsie," said his little sister. "But I'd like to see the buffaloes and all the rest of it. Can't we go, papa?"

"I will go and take my little girl and boy," replied her father, "and will be glad of the company of anyone else who feels inclined to go with us."

No one seemed disinclined, and finally all decided to go.

They were well entertained, and, when the exhibition was over, passed out upon the elevated platform at the entrance.

The crowd moved slowly, and as they stood awaiting an opportunity to descend to the street below, there arose a sudden cry of "Fire!" and at the same instant they perceived a flame creeping up within the centre tower of the Cold Storage Building near at hand.

Scarcely was the cry raised before twenty-five brave and experienced firemen were on the scene, and ascending to the platform of observation that had been built near the summit. The tower was built of pine wood and plaster, which had been dried by the sun without and hot sheet-iron chimneys within, so that it burned fiercely. The firemen saw that it was a very dangerous place for anyone to venture into, therefore they hesitated and drew back; but their leader swore at them, calling them cowards, and at once they climbed to the perilous place; but scarcely had they reached it when there was an explosion of gases; the roof heaved and fell in, carrying with it sixteen men down into a pit of gaseous flame, and a shriek of horror went up from the fifty thousand people who stood looking on, unable to give the least assistance to the poor perishing men.

The party from the Dolphin saw it all and were sick with horror. Grace fainted, and but for the support of her father's arm, quickly thrown about her, would have fallen to the floor of the platform where they stood. He held her up, and with the help of Harold and Herbert, hastily pushed his way through the crowd.

"Lay her down as quickly as you can, captain!" exclaimed Harold; "it is important."

"Yes, I know," returned Captain Raymond, glancing down at the white, unconscious face of his precious burden.

But at that instant Grace's eyes opened, and looking up in a bewildered way into her father's eyes, "Papa, I'm too heavy for you to carry," she said faintly.

"No, my darling, not at all," he replied. "There, Uncle Harold has summoned a boat and we will take you back at once to our floating home."

"Am I sick? did I faint, papa?" she asked. "Oh," – with a burst of tears and sobs – "I remember now! Oh, those poor, poor men! Papa, were they all killed?"

"Don't be so distressed, dear child," he said with emotion. "I think they must have been almost instantly suffocated by the gas, and did not feel anything that followed."

"Your father is right," said Harold, close at her side; "and though it was a very dreadful thing for them to be sacrificed in that way, and hurried into eternity without a moment's warning, they are not suffering pain of body now, and we can only hope that with their last breath they cried to the God of all grace for pardon and salvation." As he concluded his sentence the boat he had signalled was close at hands the rest of their party came up at that moment, all embarked, and they were soon on board the Dolphin, where they remained for the rest of that day, feeling too much shocked over the dreadful catastrophe at the Storage Building to care to go anywhere else.

Poor, feeble Grace was almost overwhelmed with pity and horror, weeping bitterly much of the time. The others, especially her father, did all in their power to comfort her with the hope that at least some of the killed were prepared for heaven, and with plans for giving aid and consolation to their bereaved wives, children, and other relatives who had been dependent upon their exertions for support.

The next day brought a very pleasant surprise in the arrival among them of their cousin, Dr. Conly, with his wife and her brother, Sandy McAlpin. The sight of her old physician, and Marian, of whom she was very fond, did much to restore Grace to her usual spirits, and all went together to view various interesting exhibits.

The first to which they gave their attention was that of the relics of the Cliff Dwellers. It was in the southeastern part of the grounds, and was a reproduction of Battle Rock Mountain, Colorado. As you neared it you seemed to see before you a cliff, for though built of timbers, iron, stone, staff, and boards, it wore the appearance of rock and earth. There was a cavernous opening which had the effect of a canyon, and in niches high up were the dwellings, in miniature, of the ancient people who once lived among the tablelands of our southwestern territories; but portions of the real houses were shown in order to give a perfectly truthful impression to visitors; also there were relics of the old cliff dwellers shown, such as weapons wrought from bones, stone, and wood; pottery, and cloths and mattings woven from blades of the alfalfa plant.

There were to be seen also ledges of fallen rock with houses crushed beneath and other houses built over them. Also winding paths led up the cliffs and through to the outer air, and up these our friends climbed to the summit, where they stood for a little enjoying the prospect now on this side, now on that.

"Papa," asked little Elsie, "how long ago did people live in those houses so high up among the rocks?"

"Nobody knows just how long ago, my child," he replied, "but probably hundreds of years before Columbus discovered America."

The rest of the day was spent in the Midway Plaisance, a street three hundred feet wide, beginning at the rear of the Woman's Building, extending about a mile in length, and so full of interesting sights that one might tarry there many hours, and go again day after day, without wearying of them, but always finding something by which to be greatly entertained.

"A good and most entertaining place for the study of mankind," as Mr. Dinsmore remarked.

As they entered it the sound of the sweetly piercing music of a bagpipe smote upon their ears. "Ah," exclaimed Mr. Lilburn, "that sound is sweetly homelike to my ear. Let us see, my friends, to what sight it summons us."

"The Beauty Show, sir," said Herbert. "Probably you have all heard of it – some thirty or forty belles collected from different parts of the world and dressed in their national costumes."

They went in, passing the handsome Highlander playing the bagpipes at the door. They found the women who were on exhibition ranged in pens around a large room.

"Beauties!" sniffed Rosie as she glanced about upon them, "there is scarcely one who I should have selected as such."

"Hush, hush, Rosie!" said her mother warningly; "we do not know but some of them may understand English, and surely you would be sorry to hurt their feelings."

"Yes, I should indeed, mamma," she returned in a regretful tone, and they passed out.

"That countryman of yours has much the handsomest face about that establishment. Cousin Ronald," remarked Lucilla, with a smile, as they proceeded on their way.

"I agree with you in that opinion, lassie," laughed the old gentleman, "and I have no doubt that he would also, had he heard you express it."

"How very much there is to see here!" remarked Dr. Conly – "men, women, and children from all parts of the world, clad in their own odd, native attire; Chinese, Japanese, Dahomeyans, Nubians, wild Arabs, Persians, Soudanese, Algerians, Javanese, and Cingalese."

"And some of the buildings are as singular in appearance as the people who occupy them," added his wife.

"Let us visit the village and castle of Blarney," said Rosie.

"You want to kiss the Blarney Stone, do you?" asked Herbert laughingly.

"No need of that," said Walter; "she can blarney fast enough if she wants to, and that without ever having seen the stone."

"What is blarney, papa?" asked little Elsie.

"Coaxing, wheedling, and flattering," he replied. "The village we are going to see is said to be a fair representation of one of that name in Ireland, about four miles from the city of Cork, in which there is a castle called Blarney Castle, which has stood there for more than four hundred years. The castle has a tower, as you will see, and on the top of it is a stone the kissing of which is said to confer the gift of ability to wheedle and flatter. But the true stone is said to be another in a wall where it can be kissed only by a person held over the parapet."

"Oh, I shouldn't like that at all, papa!" Elsie exclaimed. "I'd be afraid of falling, and I shouldn't like to kiss a dirty stone."

"Well, daughter, I shall never ask you to do so," he answered, with a kindly smile down into the bright, rosy little face.

They were entering the village as he spoke. Some little time was spent there very agreeably, after which they returned to the Dolphin for the night.

CHAPTER XII

There was a gathering of friends and relatives on the Dolphin that evening: all from Pleasant Plains were there; Chester and Frank Dinsmore also and the Ion family. The brother and sister of Grandma Elsie, and her eldest daughter with her husband and children, had paid their visit to the Fair at an earlier date and returned home.

Expecting to do a good deal of entertaining Captain Raymond had taken care to have his boat well provisioned, and all were cordially invited to stay and take dinner on board.

No one declined, and they were a pleasant, lively party, each having something interesting to tell of the experiences of the day, and all agreeing that the Fair was well worth the trouble and expense of the journey to reach it, and the hundred and one demands upon the purse while there. Grace alone was very quiet, seeming to have little or nothing to say, and looking at times both sad and distressed. Her father noticed it and seizing the first opportunity to speak with her in private, asked in tenderly solicitous tones if she were feeling perfectly well, adding: "I fear I have allowed you to exert yourself too much in the past few days, my darling."

"I don't know whether or not I have gone about too much, papa, but it was very kind in you to let me," she replied, laying her head on his shoulder, for they were sitting side by side on a sofa in the cabin, while the others had all gone up to the deck, "but oh, I can't forget those poor men who perished in the flames yesterday, or their wives and children, perhaps left very poor and helpless. Papa, if you are willing, I'd like to give all my pocket money to help them. My own dear father pays my way all the time and I don't need to buy any of the fine things I see for sale here and there."

"My dear child," he said, with emotion, "you may do just as you please about that. I am very glad that my little girl is so willing to deny herself to help others, and I must tell you for your comfort that a good deal of money has already been raised for the benefit of those sadly bereaved ones."

"You gave some, papa? Oh, I know you did!"

"Yes, daughter, I gave out of the abundance of means which God has put into my hands, certainly not that it may all be spent upon myself and dearest ones, but entrusted to me that some of it may be used for the relief of suffering humanity; and it is a very great pleasure – an inestimable privilege – to be permitted thus to ally to some extent the woes of poverty and bereavement."

"Yes, papa; I feel it so, and am thankful that you approve of my doing what I can to help those poor, bereaved ones."

"I am very glad my little girl is unselfish enough to desire to do so," he responded. He passed a hand tenderly over her golden curls as he spoke, and kissed her again and again with warmth of affection.

"Do you want to join the others on the deck?" he asked presently, "or would you rather go at once to your bed and rest? You are looking very weary."

"I am tired, papa," she replied, "but I think that to lie in one of the steamer chairs on deck, and listen to the talk, will rest me nicely."

"You may do so for an hour or two," he said. "I will help you up there; but when the others scatter – as they probably will by that time – I want you to go to your bed and try to get a good, long night's sleep. I must take good care of my feeble, delicate little girl that she may gain, and not lose, by this trip to the North and visit to the World's Fair."

He took her in his arms as he spoke, carried her to the deck and deposited her in a vacant lounging chair, then seated himself by her side and took Neddie on his knee.

Violet was on her husband's other side, and Dr. Conly and his Marian near at hand on the farther side of Grace.

"You are looking weary, little cousin," he remarked, giving her a searching look; "so weary that were I asked for a prescription it should be an early retirement to your berth, to be followed by a long night's rest. However, I suppose you are Harold's patient now."

"Yours too, Cousin Arthur," she said with a smile; "also papa's, and he has already given me the very same prescription."

"As I do, if I am consulted," said Harold, "and when three such physicians agree, you surely will not venture to disregard their advice."

"No, indeed!" she returned, with her own sweet smile again, "nor would I, if any of the three had given it. I do really feel the need of rest for to-night, but hope you will all agree to let me go at least as far as the Court of Honor to-morrow."

"That will depend upon how you are feeling in the morning," returned her father, Violet adding: "And if you should have to stay here and rest for a day or two you need not feel so very badly about it, Gracie, because our time for remaining in and about the White City is not limited like that of some less fortunate people."

"No, mamma, and that is something to be thankful for. Oh, I do think myself a most fortunate girl," Grace said in reply, directing a look of ardent affection toward her father as she spoke. The other young folks were chatting together near by, principally of the beauties of the Fair, and indulging in many a merry jest and much light laughter.

"The Court of Honor is, in my opinion, the most beautiful place in the world," remarked Rosie; "at least the most beautiful I have ever seen or can imagine; especially at night, when the magnificent MacMonnie's fountain, and the electric fountains are all at play. What beautiful rainbow-colored showers they send up! I never dreamed of anything so lovely and can never weary of looking at them."

"Nor have I," said Croly. "I move that we all go over there presently; in time to witness the lighting up."

There was a general assent, and young Percy Landreth, who had managed to secure a seat close at Lucilla's side, said to her in an undertone: "You will go surely, and may I have the pleasure of acting as your escort?"

"I don't know," she returned with a slight laugh and an arch look at Chester Dinsmore, who, sitting near on her other side, had overheard the request, and was looking slightly vexed and disappointed; "papa hasn't told me yet whether I may go to-night or not; and I'm 'a young thing who cannot leave her father' or go anywhere without his knowledge and consent. I'll ask him, however," she concluded, jumping up and hastening to the captain's side. "Papa," she asked, "can I go presently to the Court of Honor with the others – and you? for I suppose you are going?"

"I think it likely that your mamma and I will be going after a little," he said in reply; "but Grace is too weary to return there to-night, and you too would be the better able to enjoy yourself at the Fair to-morrow should you go early to bed to-night; so that is what I wish you to do."

"Indeed, papa, I am not so very tired," she said half imploringly, half in vexation. "Mayn't I go?"

"You have my answer to that question, daughter," he replied in a tone so low that the words scarce reached any ear but hers. "I think it best for both you and Grace that you should stay here with her, and surely you love your sister well enough to do so willingly, even if you had your father's consent to your going ashore for the evening?"

"Papa," said Grace, overhearing the last sentence, "I would not have Lu miss the pleasant evening on shore on my account. I will go directly to bed and probably fall asleep at once."

"As I hope and believe Lucilla will also," he returned, with a glance of grieved displeasure bestowed upon his eldest daughter, which sent a remorseful pang to her heart.

"Oh, father, don't be vexed with me," she entreated low and tremulously, putting a hand into his as she spoke; "I am glad that I am under your orders; I am, indeed, and would not for anything leave dear Gracie alone."

"I am sure of it, daughter," he returned, pressing the hand affectionately as he spoke. "Also I think that to-morrow you will be thankful to me that you have had a rest from exertion and excitement."

"Yes, papa, I always find that your way is best, and I am very glad and thankful that I have such a kind, wise father."

"Well, Lu, did you get leave to go?" asked Rosie as Lucilla rejoined the circle of young people. "No; papa wishes me to stay here and get to bed early that I may be well rested for to-morrow's exertion in seeing the sights of the White City," Lucilla answered in a lively, cheerful tone, that seemed to indicate entire satisfaction with her father's decision. She was in fact so remorseful over her momentary exhibition of wilfulness that she felt as if she no longer cared for anything but to convince her dearly loved father of her penitence on account of it, and her desire to do exactly as he directed.

"A wise and kind decision, Lu," remarked Herbert Travilla, overhearing what she said. "A rest now may save you from a serious break-down some days or weeks hence."

"Yes, Uncle Herbert, I am well aware that such a father as mine is a very great blessing," she returned with a smile. "I only wish I were as good a daughter."

Just at that moment the guns announced the setting of the sun, and the flags on the Dolphin and other vessels came down with the usual ceremonies. That over, those who intended going ashore for the evening or the night began their preparations, which were such as to occupy but a few minutes. Violet put her little ones to bed, and the captain, who had carried sleepy little Ned down to the state-room, on coming out into the saloon found Lucilla there waiting to speak to him.

"Papa," she said humbly, "have you quite forgiven my crossness to-night when you refused to let me go ashore? I am very, very sorry for it, but I am perfectly satisfied now with your decision; I was, the next minute, and oh, I do love you dearly, dearly, though I can hardly expect you to believe it when – when I'm so ready to be rebellious," she added, hiding her face on his breast, for he had taken her into his arms the moment she began to speak.

"Yet I do believe it, my own darling," he replied in tender tones, smoothing her hair caressingly as he spoke. "I fully believe that you love me devotedly, though for a moment you indulged in the old rebellious spirit that used to cause so much pain to both you and me. However, this is almost the first time I have seen any show of it for two or three years. In all that time you have been as willingly and cheerfully obedient as anyone could ask or expect a daughter to be."

"Oh, thank you, my dear father, for saying that!" she responded, lifting to his, eyes beaming with happiness, "and I do intend that it shall be my very last failure to be as promptly and cheerfully obedient as possible, for I know you never deny me anything, unless you see that it is for my good, and I have never known you to make a mistake about that. Do you want Grace and me to go to bed as soon as you and the others are gone?"

"I think it would be well for you to do so, but if you both prefer it you may stay on deck for another half hour."

"Then I will get ready for bed at once, papa, for I want to do exactly as you think best, and I know Gracie does also."

"Yes, I know she does; and, by the way, I must carry her down before I go; she is so weary, poor child," he said, hurrying up to the deck.

Lucilla waited only to see the others off, then joined her sister in their state-room.

"You poor dear, you are so tired!" she exclaimed, noticing Grace's weary expression and heavy eyes. "You must let me help you with your preparations for bed."

"Thank you, Lu," returned Grace; "you are such a dear sister – always so kind and helpful to me; but I am sorry that for my sake you should lose the pleasure of going to the Court of Honor with the others to-night."

"O Gracie, you know we always find out in the end that papa's way is the best for us both, and he refused my request for my own sake as well as yours."

"Yes; he is the very kindest and best of fathers," said Grace; "he never refuses any one of his children anything he can give them when he thinks it good for them."

"But now I must stop talking and go to sleep as quickly as possible, as he bade me when he brought me down here."

Both she and Lucilla were asleep in a few minutes and awoke the next morning feeling greatly refreshed and rested.

"Shall we visit the Turkish village to-day?" asked Violet at the breakfast table.

"I say aye to that," said Walter. "I want to see it and make some purchases there. I've heard that there is a street there with booths along on the side and a bazaar where one can buy various kinds of Turkish goods. I want to get some if only for curiosities."

"And for a quarter you can go up in the restaurant and see the girls dance," said his sister Rosie; "or into the theatre to look at a representation of Mohammedan home life and adventure. So Mr. Will Croly told me."

"Well, I don't know about going to the theatre," returned Walter, "but I'd like to see their mosque with its minaret, at noon or sunset, when a real muezzin comes out and calls upon the faithful to remember Allah and give him glory."

"He does it at sunrise too, doesn't he?" asked Evelyn Leland.

"Yes; but we'll never get over there in time for that. Some of our American folks don't know what he is about, – not understanding his language – and imagine that he's selling popcorn or advertising the dance-house, or maybe calling for somebody to come and help him down."

"How, Uncle Wal?" asked Neddie.

"With a ladder, I suppose."

"Do they bring it to him?"

"I don't think they have yet, Neddie; at least I haven't heard of it. But wouldn't you like to go and see it all?"

"Yes; if papa will take me; and mamma will go too."

"How many would like to go?" asked the captain, and everyone responding in favor of so doing the question was considered settled.

They set out at their usual early hour, met Harold and Herbert in the Peristyle, lingered a little in the Court of Honor, then made their way to the Turkish village, went through the booths and bazaar, making a number of purchases, looked at the mosque and heard the noon cry of the muezzin.

Then they visited an Arabian tent and the fac-simile of a house in Damascus. In the tent there were male and female Arabs sitting cross-legged; some of them boiling coffee, or making thin wafer cakes, while others played on odd looking instruments and chanted in monotonous tones.

The party went into the house, found that it contained but one room, oblong in shape, with high ceiling, and windows just beneath the cornice.

"That would hardly do for Americans," remarked Walter, gazing up at them, "for we could not see into the street."

"We could go to the door, Uncle Walter," said Elsie.

"Or have a step-ladder to carry about from one window to another," laughed Rosie.

"I like the festooned walls, the fountain in the centre, and the thick rugs on the floors," remarked Violet; "the hanging lamps too, and ornaments of rich woods inlaid with ivory; also the divans that look like such comfortable resting-places."

"Yes, madame would find them pleasant to rest upon," responded a young Turk in excellent, but quaintly intoned, English; then he went on to explain everything in the same tongue.

Their next visit was to Cairo Street, at the gate of which ten cents was asked for the admission of each one of the party; a small sum they thought, to give in payment for a sight of all that was on exhibition inside. Having passed through the gate they found themselves in a street square, with a cafe opening into it on one side. Entering it they sat down and looked about them.

Captain Raymond, who had been more than once in Cairo itself, pronounced the scene an exact copy of what was to be found there, and they presently learned that the doors and wooden-grated windows had been brought bodily from that city.

They could see projecting balconies, mysterious archways, airy loggias, and tiny shops filled to overflowing with such things as many a one would want to buy, and being in easy circumstances they bought a number of articles such as were not too heavy or cumbersome to be easily carried.

Soon, however, their attention was turned to the crowds in the streets. Near by was a donkey and camel stand – donkeys standing and camels lying down in their own peculiar fashion.

"Oh, what funny fellows!" laughed little Ned.

"Yes," said his father, "those are camels. Would you like to take a ride on one?"

"No, sir; I might fall off."

"Yes, Ned, and hurt yourself; maybe break your leg; and it would take even Cousin Arthur a good while to mend it; so that you would miss the pleasure of going about with the rest of us," said Walter.

"I don't want to ride just now," said Ned, "but if I did I'd rather try one of those little horses."

"Donkeys, Ned," corrected his sister Lucilla, "and what little fellows they are! no bigger than Max's dog Prince!"

"Oh, see!" cried Rosie with a merry laugh, "that one going down the street knocked against that big fat man and almost upset him."

"Notice the drivers," said Evelyn, "all so swarthy and with such black eyes, naked feet, long caftans, fez, and turbans. And what a keen watch they keep for customers. Evidently they do not despise American dollars, dimes, or cents."

"No, indeed! not they," said Walter. "Oh, there are a couple who evidently contemplate taking a ride on a camel; see, the young fellow seems to be bargaining with one of the drivers; and how the people are crowding round to look and listen!"

"What's the price?" they heard the young man ask. They did not catch the reply, but he went on with his questions: "Will he bite? Is he quite tame? Is there any danger at all?"

"No-a bite," returned the driver; "good camel," and as he spoke he reached for the girl, who shrank back a little. But he quickly lifted her to the saddle and showed her how to hold on.

Then the young man climbed up behind her, reached around her waist and seized the hand-hold as if determined that nothing should tear it from his grasp.

The girl noticed it and grew more frightened, turning a trifle paler and asking: "Is there any danger?"

But the driver was already tugging at the halter and striking the camel over the neck with his stick, and slowly it spread out its hind legs, rising on them first, and throwing its riders forward till it seemed as if they must slide down his sloping neck and fall to the ground.

The girl screamed, as her hat fell over her eyes, but both she and her escort held on with a deathlike grip.

The camel paused for a moment, then swayed back and forth sideways; the girl screamed again, but the camel was only untangling his legs, and the next instant settled himself on them in a way that threw his riders backward so that they would have fallen off behind but for their firm grasp of the ropes.

But now the camel was fairly upon his four feet, and slowly turning round with a wobbling motion like a boat caught in a trough of waves; the riders had recovered from their fright, and were both laughing. All this time the crowd had been standing round watching the two, and laughing and tittering, for, risky as the whole proceeding looked, there was really very little, if any, danger.