388 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Nov. 4, 1898. 



The Chief— Yea. Fellow tried to jump over the Ferris 

 wheel and he failed. 



The Colonel— Aw, go 'way? 



The Chief— Ain't you going to settle? 



The Colonel— Yes, I'H buy the coffee. What kind you 

 want? 



The Chief— Well, I want about five kinds, but I'll 

 begin at Guatemala. I don't think that Brazil coffee is 

 good for my stomach. 



The Colonel— Which one? 



The Chief— What which? 



The Colonel— Why, which stomach? 



The Chief— Say, I've heard about enough of that. 

 These things stick to a fellow a long time. 



The Colonel — Sure. I knew a man once whose 

 stomach stuck to him all his life. 



The Chief — Monsieur is getting gay! 



The Colonel— Coin' to settle? 



The Chief — What'll you have? 



The Colonel — Java cocoa. Come on. I s'pose we'll 

 have to get to work, and a few cups of coffee and cocoa 

 will go well to start on. We've got to sample everything 

 on the Midway. This here noble perfession of journalism 

 has its joys and its sorrows. 



They Felt Better. 



The Colonel {an hour later, in front of Hagenbaek's 

 circus) — Well, I feel better. This is a gx-eat world. 



The Chief — Yes, this is indeed a bright and beautiful 

 world. It is entirely spherical, of a uniform lovely green 

 color, with pretty red stripes on it, all equi-distant from 

 each, other. The world is all right. 



The Colonel — You want to keep Katie out of sight of 

 these lions. ■ They'll take a leg off of him. 



The Chief — Naw. These here are tame lions. They 

 won't eat spring lamb with mint sauce. Say, they wash 

 'em with cashmere bouquet soap and manicure their teeth. 



The Colonel— This old fellow looks as if they fed him 

 on Wiener wursts. He's despondent looking. 



The Chief — Yep. After a lion has lost his grip he's no 

 good. A tired lion gathers no moss. 



The Colonel — Well, I guess we can cover the circus 

 aU right now. How about the Samoan village. 



The Chief — Wait till I buy Katie a redhot. He's hungry 

 yet, I thought those last three cups of coffee would calm 

 him down, but he's dead game. 



South Sea Islanders. 



The Colonel— This is the only thing on the Midway 

 that isn't a fake. Tliese fellows are sincere. See 'em 

 whack that drum. 



The Chief — They're a prime brand of yeUow niggers, 

 and if they had heart they ought to make fighters. 



The Colonel — They need clothes, I can now under- 

 stand where my boyish Sabbath school pennies went to. 

 I'll bet that fellow changes his costume before October is 

 over. But see him whack the drum! 



The Chief— Yes. They are a simple and direct people. 

 History recounts that when they wanted missionary to 

 eat, they went right out and ate missionary, and were 

 glad of it. In short,. we may write them down as those 

 who loved their fellow man. Come here Katie, air! I'll 

 have to put a spike color on you. 



The Alpine Panorama. 

 The Colonel— I believe this here is a sort of thing like 

 the battle of Gettysburg. That long thing his dukelets is 

 playing is an Alpine horn. They call it a Matterhorn. 

 That is what is the matter with him. He takes a horn 

 every now and then. Say, that horn is so long he has to 

 blow twice to get through it. That's what they call double 

 tongueing. 



The Chief — I used to blow a cornet myself once. 



The Colonel — I am ready to beheve it of you. What 

 do you say to going in and hearing tlie merry Swiss 

 jodelers do their jodeling, and seeing the Ranz des Vaches 

 come home in the evening gloaming? 



The Chief — Naw. I was through there once. It's all 

 a spiral. You keep on going up, around a screw, and a 

 fellow pokes you along, the way they do cattle in a chute. 

 "Keep on the right! " he says, '.'keep to the right." 



The Colonel — Yes, I've been there too. By and by you 

 get up-stau"s, and just as you got your eye fixed on a job 

 lot of glaciers, the same feUow says, "Keep to the right 

 and pass on down stairs." He's a relative of David 

 Crockett, that fellow — Be sure you're right, and then go 

 down-stairs. The Mont Cenis tunnel is no railroad at all 

 compared to the way they railroad you through there. 

 Come on. Here, Katie! Let go of that Ottoman. 



At the Hindoo Jugglers. 



The Colonel — I allow this is a plenty good place to go 

 in and sit down. They make trees grow in five minutes 

 in here, and draw baskets of flowers out of the air. 



The Chief— That's all right. I was in there once, and 

 the most wonderful thing they do is the way they draw 

 twenty-five cents out of your clothes. Come on. 



At the Beauty Show. 



The Colonel — Owing to certain reports I have heard in 

 regard to this joint, I think two gentlemen of our charac- 

 ter oughtn't to go in there, not for a thousand dollars. 

 The Chief — I ain't scared. I'LL go in for five hundred. 

 The Colonel— Well, you know about Ulysses and the 

 sirens. They had to put cotton in their ears to deaden the 

 report. 



The Chief— Who's Ulysses? 



The Colonel — Prominent dogman before the war. 

 Come on. 



At the Turkish Cafe. 



The Colonel— Here, Katie, have some of the Oriental 

 Ormus and Ind, hot, hot, hot, It'U do you good. 



The Chief {in alarm) — Don't let the dog eat that. Do 

 you want to kiU him; 



The Colonel— Mr. Waters, as I understand it, we 

 brought this dog along for clinical purposes. 



The Chiep— That's all right, but give the dog a chance. 

 Come and have some coffee. 



The Colonel— All right. They've got coffee in here so 

 strong you have to wear smoked glasses while you drink 

 it. You can get some coffee for Katie if you want to. 

 He's only had four kinds so far. Get on to the Turkish 

 bagpipes. 



The Chief— Ain't they darlin's? As John Davidson 

 would say, a man would face a regiment of devils to the 

 music of the pipes— that is, to get away from the pipes. 



At the Algerian Bazaar. 

 The Colonel— Ah, here are the merchants of Bokharis, 

 who are selling rugs at a bargain because they are going 

 to New York to-morrow morning. Been going all sum- 

 mer. 



The Chief— Colonel, where do you get your Oriental 

 pronunciation? 



The Colonel — Always pronounce a foreign word the 

 hardest way. I was taught this method in coUege, and 

 have used no other since. Come along, we don't want 

 any twp-by-four rugs, nor any semi-silverized souvenirs. 

 I'd buy a sandwich all around, if it didn't cost a king's 

 ransom on the Midway. Say, I saw a six-foot roller 

 chair pusher just now, and he said — 



The Chief — He must have been a high roller, wasn't 

 he?" 



The Colonel — Oh, quit! You ain't funny. Do you 

 know what he said? 

 The Chief— Nope. 



The Colonel — Well, a lady from Indiana had just 

 asked bim which building the lagoon was in, and he said 

 he didn't know. 



The Chief — I heard a fellow ask a guard what part of 

 the Government Building he ought to visit to see 'em 

 hatching fish out of artificial eggs. 



The Colonel — Now, about that tall slim chair roller. 

 You know, I expect he has to eat in the PoHsh restaurant. 



The Chief — Poland is a great country. 



The Colonel— You say the truth. We owe to it free- 

 dom on her mountain heights, Kosciusko county, In- 

 diana, and the small but active Pole cat. 



The Chief — Come here, Katie! Let go the Algerian. 

 Let him go to New York, if he wants to. Say, Colonel, 

 did you ever go to the Swedish restaurant? 



The Colonel — Not if I knew it. 



The Chief— I did, and it was a corker. You know I 

 speak Swede and French just about alike, and so I went 

 in and sat down and said kind of careless like, "Sjorkss- 

 keedjwed jorgswatzgen, ride avay!" Guess what he 

 brought me? 



The Colonel— Give it up. 



The Chief — Scrambled eggs. Then guess what he 

 brought me? 

 The Colonel— Check for $2? 



The Chief — Thought you said you hadn't been there? 



The Colonel — ^I've been all over. You know these 

 restaurant men forget all about the hereafter. A fellow 

 ought to go in with a sign card hanging around his neck 

 which says, "Please do not touch." 



The Chief — They'd touch him, anyhow. But where 

 are we now in the evening' work? 



The Colonel — That's so. This story is getting tangled. 

 Say, let's go see the volcano of Hawaii. That ought to be 

 good stuff. There ought to be a lavatory there, and we 

 can go in and wash up. 



At the Panorama of Kilauea. 



The Chief {as they enter) — Colonel, do you see anything 

 wrong about that sign? 



The Colonel— Why, rather. It says, "No Smoking in 

 this Building." Now, no self-respecting volcano ought to 

 have its rights infringed on that way. If I was a volcano 

 I'd smoke if I felt like it. 



The Chief — ^So would I, if I was of age, and I aUow 

 this volcano shorely is. 



The Colonel — We ought to have this volcano down in 

 the Forest and Stream office. We could give a hard- 

 boiled egg with every subscription to the paper. 



The Chief {looking at the cr-ater) — This volcano has 

 had a drop too much of the craythur. 



The Colonel— Hush! There's a guard. Get on to 

 that moon, won't you. Most over worked moon I ever 

 saw. 



The Chief — Yes, that moon ought to join the eight- 

 hour movement. 



The Colonel— I don't think they ought to have Uttle 

 fire-extinguishers sitting around here the way they have. 

 To put a volcano out with a hand extinguisher is sort of 

 lowering it in public estimation, ain't it? Say, let's rip 

 this volcano up the back, it's no good. 



The Chief — She's already ripped up the back, I'm think- 

 ing. Who's the artist? 



The Colonel — Don't know. He wasn't bad on moun- 

 tains. 



The Chief — These careless ways of running things 

 ought to be discouraged. The name of the ai-tist ought 

 to be blown in every mountain. 



The Guard — Heear, heear, now! None ov that! Move 

 an, now, will yez! 



The Colonel— I beg your pardon. Captain, but is this 

 where they have the Honolulus? 



The Guard— Naw! Yere t'inkin' ovde Persian theayter, 

 see? Move an wid yez! 



The Colonel— Well, when we get the cold shake at a 

 volcano I'm due to roast the Exposition. Let's go. 



The Chief — That fellow evidently don't known he's 

 entertaining two sporting mahatmas unawares. Let's go 

 across the street. Say, over in the Fisheries Building 

 they've got an exhibit of fish glue. They make cement 

 out of it, and they show a cracked plate stuck together 

 with this cement, holding up a big block of granite. At 

 night they put a piece of wood imder the granite. 



The Colonel— What for? 



The Chief— Why, to give the cement a rest. Wouldn't 

 you get tired if you had to hold up SOOlbs. sdl day long? 

 Say, you gorn' to settle? 



The Colonel— What'U it be this time; tea, coffee or 

 cocoa? 



The Chief— Suppose we hit another cup of Javanese 

 cocoa. Katie didn't drink any cocoa and he's got to have 

 some. Cocoa is good for mange — at least, I expect it's as 

 good as a good many things sold for that. It also is good 

 for canker of the ear, and rabies. Come here Katie. Let 

 go the nigger! 



At the Javanese Village. 



The Colonel — This is the only decent place on the Mid- 

 way, and I'm surprised it isn't better patronized. 

 The Chief — That's why it isn't. 



The Colonel— My dear suM My dear sir I Pish, tush 

 and tut, tut, tut! Also, fie! 



The Chief — Here, Katie! Come here and drink your 

 cocoa. We'U make a newspaper man out of you yet. 

 There are three kinds of cocoa. One you get where the 

 girls wear yellow bodices and white caps, and one you get 

 where they wear Dutch costumes, and this is the kind that 

 comes right out of the cocoanut, Katie, drop the wild 

 man from Borneo and drink your cocoa! 



The Colonel — Let the dog alone, if he's enjoying him- 

 self. He's the only dog that ever went down the Midway, 

 and he ought to have privileges. Come on, we ought to 

 see the Moorish theater. 



At the Moorish Theater. 

 The Chief — ^I've been in there. Nothing to it but Rosa, 

 the famous dancing girl. She's a whirler, sort of goes 

 round and round. Makes you think you've got a wheel in 

 your head. 



The Colonel — It wouldn't be good for you to go in 

 there, then, my boy. We'll pass it, and wx-ite it up as a 

 dreamy, languorous scene of Oriental vice. 



The Chief — All right. Lef s cross over. But say, you 

 know why I like Rosa? 



The Colonel— Well, no— that is— I didn't know you 

 did. 



The Chief — ^Well, I do, because she's the only foreign 

 girl on the Plaisance that isn't named Fatima or Maud. I 

 don't think there ought to be too much Volapuk in proper 

 names. 



At the Persian Theater. 



The Colonel {gazing at the muscular danciiig)— The 

 stories of the abandonment of this horrible spectacle have 

 not been exaggerated. 



The Chief — Yes, they dance as if they had the freedom 

 of the city. 



The Colonel — ^Let us flee this wicked spot! We can 

 come again when we aren't in such a hui-ry. 



The American Indian Village. 



The Colonel— We can surely do this sudden. I can go 

 an Indian with a tomahawk, but when the same Indian 

 carries a fan I lose confidence in the tomahawk. Let's 

 go. 



At the Dahomey Village. 



The Chief — These here may be genuine Dahomans, 

 fresh from the realm of King Benzine, but to me they 

 look a mighty lot like just plain Mississippi niggers. I 

 kick On paying a quarter to see thirty-eight niggers. I've 

 seen 700 for nothing. 



The Colonel — ^Well, well, now don't let's have any 

 race war here. We got to get this story, and this is part 

 of it." Come in and see the fiery untamed Amazons that 

 don't know nothin' but fight, see? 



An Amazon {to the CMe/)— How do? Chicago? Chicago? 

 Poppie? Poppie? Me — Chicago beer! Me — Chicago- beer. 



The Chief — The insulting creature! Is there then no 

 nationality on earth, or even on the Plaisance, that 

 doesn't hanker after Chicago beer! Let go of the Ama- 

 zon, Katie! Come on, let's go. 



At Old Vienna. 



The Colonel — Now, here we at last have it. Isn't 

 this the Old Vienna we have read about in the pages of 

 our esteemed contemporary? 



The Chief— Yes, it is. You can write a good deal 

 about old Vienna, or about new Vienna, or any Vienna, 

 but the plain truth about this Vienna is that it is a big 

 carousing groimd, where at 11 o'clock you can kiss all 

 your neighbors, and in the meantime can put in the even- 

 ing at assiduously buying beer at 10 cents a glass. 



The Colonel — Yes, and incidentally you can hear two 

 kinds of nuisic of the bung-starting sort, and can also 

 smile at the waiter girls — it won't hurt 'em any. The 

 Old Vienna of the special correspondents and the Old 

 Vienna of harsh fact constitute two entirely distinct and 

 separate entities, Sick 'em, Katie! 



At the German Village. 



The Colonel— As near as I can see this is pretty much 

 the same thing — some music and some beer, and then 

 some more beer. 



The Chief — It hath much moreness. 



The Colonel — Yes, I don't know why it is, but all 

 German band music is ulterior — it has beer in its inten- 

 tions every time. Don't let Katie get in there. Suppose 

 we do Cairo now. 



In Cairo Street. 



The Camel Gong — Whang! Bang! Tumpy, tumpy, 

 tum; whang, bang! 



The Egyptla-N Pipes— Whee-ee-eek, ee-eek, whee-ee-ee! 



The Colonel— I see they have doubled the price on 

 this concord of sweet sounds. Costs twenty cents now to 

 get in. 



The Chief — Costs you $4 to get out; but here goes. 

 The Donkey Boys— Ride-a the donk'! Best-a good 

 donk' in the street! 

 The Chief — Try it on the dog. 



The Camel Drivers- Ride-a the cam'! T'irty cent 

 backsheesh! 



The Chief— Try it on the dog. Say, Colonel, get on to 

 his trousers. They're cut tandem. 



The Candy Man — ^Bum-bum, bum-bum, very good-a 

 bum-bum! 



The Chief — ^Try it on the dog. Here, Katie, come and 

 have some bum-bum. Let go the camel driver, and come 

 and get some candy. Good fellow, good Katie. There 

 now. 



The Cairene Flower Girl — Buy flowah, nice mistahl 



The Colont:e— HeUo, Mary, haven't they suppressed 

 you yet? What makes you wear that mask? Have you 

 taken to the veil? 



Mary, the Flower Girl— Buy flowah, nice mistah. 



The Chief — ^Bet your life we're nice, all right. 



The Colonel — Mary, raise your veil and I'll give you a 

 dime. {Mary raises veil, disclosing a nightmare jihysiog- 

 nomy.) 



The Colonel {after intent scrutiny) — I thought there 

 was something wrong with your face. You may put the 

 veil down again, {Mary drops veil and hastens away, 

 swearing in Cairene dialect.) 



The Chief {to attendant of bazaar)— Paslez vous Fran- 

 gais? 



The Attendant — Oh, oui, assurement, monsieur. 



The Chief— Well, I don't. How much for this hangled 

 girdle? I think I'd look well in that. 



The Attendant {suddenly weary) — Six-fifty, 



The Chief — ^I wanted a good one. 



The Colonel— Let's go see the Nubians. They got two 

 kinds of Abyssinian fuzzy-wuzzies in there. 



The Chief — ^We have to sweeten it again for ten cents 

 apiece before we get in there; but let it go at that, {They 

 enter, and ivitness the barbaric dances.) 



The Chief — ^I announce as the result of profound study 



