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WORLD’S FAIR CHAT. 
OUTSIDE THE GATES. 
letta, where are your World’s Fair notes ? ” I 
call to the well-grown cherub, swaying in her 
cloud of pink lawn in the hammock. 
“ I am not one of the Scribes or Pharisees,” she re¬ 
sponds lazily, waving her Japanese fan at a trouble¬ 
some fly. 
“ You do not mean that you did not take any ? ” I 
almost shriek. 
“ Do not shout—it is never well-bred. I was obliged 
to hold on to my life with both hands, to keep it from 
being crushed out with the rest of me, by black, and 
brown, and blue, and pepper-and-salt coated indi¬ 
viduals who were accompanied always by the feminine 
gender in the plural number and imperative mood, 
who were placed in front of Dolly and myself in that 
almost sublime devotion to liberty the patriotic Ameri¬ 
can always shows—for himself. I haven’t a whole 
toe! No chance to take notes there, my dear Pru¬ 
dence, or anything else but a limited supply of 
breath.” 
“ But you promisrd—” 
“ Oh, I know I did. I meant to write your whole 
article for you in such brilliant style that The Rural 
New-Yokkeb would henceforth desire the work of no 
other pen ; I meant to scintillate—” 
“ And didn’t you ? ” I venture timidly. 
“ Now, Prudence, don’t—stick to your accounts of 
crewels and embroideries, and preserves and jewels, 
and statuary and pictures, or whatever else the female 
mind may be supposed to delight in, but do not, I beg 
of you, attempt weak wit. It is the last resource of a 
feeble mind.” 
“ Eletta !” I command, “be quiet! or, if you will give 
advice, tell me what to say about the World’s Fair— 
give me your Fourth of July impressions ; do anything 
except lie there and hector your betters ! ” 
“ My dear Prudence, for this once I waive comment 
upon your intemperate speech. Tell them what is to 
be seen outside the Fair cheap and free, what to wear 
and how to get there, and, oh ! warn them all if there 
is ever another World’s Fair and another Fourth of 
July, not to go there unless they are the Mayor, and 
so protected from the common herd ; if they belong 
to the latter, let them not join it—though an air ship 
miyht do—” reflectively. 
“ But the fireworks and the music.” 
“ Music ceases to charm the worm which cannot 
turn; the fireworks were an Aladdin’s Lamp and 
Arabian Nights rolled into one ; but when you con¬ 
sider the dreary wait and crush, and scramble and 
delay in home-coming and the late dinner of scrappy 
cold food, you, outside, had the best of it, Prudence. 
Of course there were the magnificent buildings and 
exhibits all open, but nothing could be seen for the 
crush. My advice to everybody is to stay at home on 
big days. My mind and body are both so tired that I 
have lost all respect for them. Now, don’t talk, for I 
am going to lose myself ‘ between two worlds.’ ” 
Tired little Eletta ! 1 looked at her pongee dress with 
its limp folds and brown lace, flung over a chair, and 
wondered if I had not better break my rule for once, 
and hang it up for her ; but no, order is not her strong 
point. I knew if I did it once I must continue, and so 
steeled my heart. She looked so well in it yesterday 
when she fastened the golden California poppies in 
her belt that no one might take her for a Chicago girl. 
“ But they have prettiness.” 
“Yes, but there is so much of it.” Eletta is small 
and affects to despise what she secretly envies—height 
and strength in girls. Ben and I might revel in the 
every-dayness of straw hats, shirt waists and Eton 
jackets ; for her part she would “ shine in silk attire.” 
We decided on the morning of the Fourth to go by 
water, the little Sunbeam leaving the pier at Lake 
View, about three blocks from our home, every hour. 
The fare from here and from Lincoln Park is 25 cents, 
but from Van Buren Street dock one may be carried 
by the large “ Whaleback ” for 15 cents. This, how¬ 
ever, makes the voyage shorter, and the tourist loses 
the beauty of Lincoln Park, the shore with its break¬ 
water wall of stone, and the handsome north shore 
residences. I should think a half invalid might see 
the fair, if a good sailor, by taking these boats instead 
of jarring cable cars, and board very reasonable may 
be had in many a vine-embowered cottage, for the 
North Side people, not expecting to profit by the fair, 
have not raised their prices. 
No visitor should leave Chicago without one sail 
from Lincoln Park, and view of the fair from the 
water approach. The trees, Grant Monument, Potter 
Palmer’s castle-like mansion, with its handsome 
towers, the new Masonic temple, with its immense 
height (20 stories), all receive deserved attention, and 
the gentle movement of the boat as she rides the 
waves, is rather soothing than agitating to the nerves 
which grow so readily tired with the bustle and noise 
of the city, and the jar of the cable cars. Then the 
White City, the beautiful World’s Fair City, that in so 
few months, with all its delicacy of detail and perfec¬ 
tion of outline, will be demolished ! what words can 
do it justice as it rises from the water ? h'o many 
abler pens have dwelt lovingly upon the theme that I 
shall only say it bids me dream and worship, and, up¬ 
lifted by the majesty of man’s work, I go back to my 
own little part, to find it greater, since some of the 
nobility I have seen has crept into its conception and 
design 
To-day, however, we were not to enter—since Ben 
and I were both tired and must attend a lawn party 
in the evening. Eletta and Dolly left us, with a prom¬ 
ise to chronicle faithfully the crowds, the music, the 
fire-works and the raising of Old Glory—the Paul 
Jones flag which had been brought for the occasion 
by Mrs. Perry Stafford of Martha’s Vineyard, the first 
flag of America with its 12 stars, saved by her ancestor 
who sprang into the sea for it when it was shot from 
the mast. So, though the music and crowds were 
inspiriting, v e turned away (one cannot do every¬ 
thing) in the direction of the Illinois Central ears 
(fare 10 cents—a through train from fair to central 
station—time, 15 minutes). 
It had rained a little on the boat, enough to dampen 
Eletta’s thin silk and dainty lace bonnet, while my 
every-day blue serge and sailor hat were unharmed. 
In costume no better can be devised than the wool 
skirt, with fresh shirt waist and jacket ; then broad, 
low walking shoes, and some strong bag for a lunch 
to be eaten when hungry ; for often the caf6s are 
crowded, and the exhibits being so alluring, distances 
and fatigue are forgotten, until one is ready to drop 
with weariness ; if one must wait then f or refresh¬ 
ments illness may be the result; while a lunch may 
be carried with perfect propriety, and eaten anywhere; 
many of the State buildings provide a place. Indiana 
in particular has a separate room, apart from the 
exhibits, in which one finds table, chairs and pitchers 
of water, while in all of them toilet accommodations 
are free—elsewhere a fee of five cents is charged. And 
if a rent is, by chance, made in one’s clothing she has 
but to repair to the parlor of the Kansas building 
where in a handsome basket—native workmanship of 
rye straw—are placed thread, needle, thimble “ for 
the good of the public.” a. d. w. 
TEACHING MORALS. 
THINK the teachers who consider their duties to 
consist in transferring the contents of text-books 
into the brains of pupils must have a very narrow 
view of education. My Webster’s Unabridged Diction¬ 
ary tells me that to educate is “ to prepare and fit for 
any calling or business, or for activity and usefulness 
in life ; as to educate a child.” I realize that this is a 
very broad definition, but it is also a true one. 
We understand that a child goes to school to get his 
education—that is, he is presumed “to be prepared 
for activity and usefulness in life.” Perhaps we may 
differ in our opinion of the necessary preparation, but 
it seems to me indispensable to success thal instruc¬ 
tion should be given in morals as well as books. 
One of the first things a child learns in school is 
that he must not whisper to those near him Here 
begins your lesson in self-control. Follow this through 
the school years of the child, and as he is old enough 
to appreciate it, show him why you are obliged to 
make this rule. For the wise teacher will make few 
restrictions that can not, or should not be explained 
to the pupils who have arrived at the years of under¬ 
standing. 
For my part, I do not see how any one can avoid 
teaching morals in school. If you are called upon to 
settle a dispute between a bully and another boy, I 
can think of no better way than to show what true 
courage is; if one pupil thinks another one has 
infringed on his rights, this is just the time to settle 
it by showing the value of jus’.ice and equal rights. 
I cannot imagine a teacher teaching United States 
history, and omitting to impress upon her pupils the 
lessons of devotion to principle from the early Pil¬ 
grims : or of grandeur of character from George Wash¬ 
ington ; or of patriotism from young Nathan Hale; 
or of the awfulness of such a life and death as that of 
Benedict Arnold. 
Does not the changing year with its never-ending 
succession of birds, flowers, trees, fruits, showers, 
frosts and snows and the everlasting magnificence of 
mountain, sea and sky call on you, nay, force you, to 
lead your pupils to look higher, even to the Hand 
Divine ? 
All around us are men and women stranded on 
Time’s shore for want of a proper preparation of 
character to match their brilliant mental equipment. 
Edgar A. Poe’s is not an isolated case. Whether or 
not it is right for parents to leave so much of this for 
the teacher to do, is another question, but I think that 
a teacher who takes a proper interest in the welfare 
of her scholars will see to it that the child has this 
training of the heart as well as the understanding, if 
she has to give it h erself. Surely without this the 
pupil cannot be prepared for activity and usefulness 
in life. Henrietta m brayton 
THE SPARE ROOM. 
N OW that the summer is here, the spare room will 
be in more than usual demand. Being one of 
the best in the house, it is ornamented with some of the 
prettiest decorations, and looks very attractive. 
But how about the bureau drawers and closet room ? 
Are they both filled with the best wearing apparel of 
yourself and better half ? 
Your £-uest receives a very cordial invitation to make 
a visit. It may be for a few days or * eeks. When 
introducing her to that spare room you remark feel¬ 
ingly: “ So sorry I cannot give you more than a few 
nails in this closet and but one of these bureau draw¬ 
ers—we are so crowded for room.” 
What is a spare room for ? If the visit is for two 
weeks what can without being rumpled goes into that 
bureau drawer. Summer dresses wrinkle and muss 
easily. Your guest wishes to get them out of her 
satchel or trunk as quickly as possible not to trouble 
you for irons. Thus the few nails left in the closet 
are filled ; the remaining gowns go over the back of a 
chair and the trunk or satchel into a corner. Your 
guest has a “ nice time,” but mental-y remarks when 
alone within the four walls of that spare room that 
she will be glad when she gets home and has a place 
for her things. 
You that have a spare room, get down your most 
respectable trunk from the attic, put your spare things 
into it and in your own room and see how you like it. 
I. M B. 
One Good Turn Deserves Another.— Now while the 
city is urging the country people to open their homes 
and receive the poor little waifs of the city streets L to 
their families, providing them with comforts and 
luxuries free of cost, would it not be a good idea for 
our people to ask what the city people propose to do 
in return ? Country people are not only expected to 
do for their own children, but are obliged to take care 
of their own poor. Who hears of city people who 
are worth their millions inviting even the sons and 
d iughters of these same farming people into their 
homes in the winter season for a couple of weeks, 
giving them the educational advantages which such 
short trips prove to young people: while as to doing 
anything for the country poor, it is unthought of. 
Taking care of city waifs is a noble work ; but whether 
that work is the duty of poor farmers who are unable 
to educate their own children, is the question. If 
farmers desire to enjoy any of the comforts or advant¬ 
ages of city life they are expected to pay a good price 
for them. It is a poor rule that does not work both 
ways. a. e. p. 
A cream of tartar baking powder. 
Highest of all in leavening strength. 
—Latest United States Government 
Report. 
Royal Baking Powder Co., 
106 Wall Street, New York. 
