Samantha at the World's Fair, Marietta Holley [most life changing books txt] 📗
- Author: Marietta Holley
Book online «Samantha at the World's Fair, Marietta Holley [most life changing books txt] 📗». Author Marietta Holley
I wouldn't say a word further to him, and I never spoke to him once that night—not once, only in the night I thought there wu[Pg 419]z a mouse in the room, and I forgot myself and called on him for help.
And for three days I didn't pass nothin' but the compliments with him; he felt bad—he worships me. He did it all to keep me from goin' to a costl[Pg 420]y place—I know what his motives wuz—but he had mortified me too deep.
CHAPTER XV.Wall, this mornin' I said that I would go to see the Palace of Art if I had to go on my hands and knees.
And Josiah sez, "I guess you'd need a new pair of knees by the time you got there."
And I do spoze it wuz milds and milds from where I wuz.
But I only wanted to let Josiah Allen know my cast-iron determination to not be put off another minute in payin' my devours to Art.
He see it writ in my mean and didn't make no moves towards breakin' it up.
Only he muttered sunthin' about not carin' so much about ile paintin's as he did for lots of other things.
But I heeded him not, and sez I, "We will go early in the mornin' before any one gits there." But I guess that several hundred thousand other folks must have laid on the same plans o[Pg 421]vernight, for we found the rooms full and runnin' over when we got there.
Before we got to the Art Palace, you'd know you wuz in its neighborhood by the beautiful statutes and groups of figgers you'd see all round you.
The buildin' itself is a gem of art, if you can call anything a gem that is acres and acres big of itself, and then has immense annexes connected with it by broad, handsome corridors on either side.
It is Greek in style, and the dome rises one hundred and twenty-five feet and is surmounted by Martiny's wonderful winged Victory.
Another female is depictered standin' on top of the globe with wreaths in her outstretched hands.
Wall, I hope the figger is symbolical, and I believe in my soul she is!
You enter this palace by four great portals, beautiful with sculptured figgers and ornaments, and as you go on in the colonnade you see beautiful paintin's illustratin' the rise and progress of Art.
And way up on the outside, on what they call the freeze of the buildin' (and good land! I don't see what they wuz a-thinkin' on, for I wuz jest a-meltin' down where I wuz, and it must have been hotter up there).
But that's their way.
[Pg 422]
Wall, way up there and on the pediment of the principal entrances are sculptures and portraits of the ancient masters of Art in relief.
In relief? That's what they called it, and I spoze them old men must felt real relieved and contented to be sot down there in such a grand place, and so riz up like. You could see plain by their liniments how glad and proud they wuz to be in Chicago, a-lookin' down on that seen of beauty all round 'em. Lookin' down on the terraces richly ornamented with balustrades—down over the immense flight of steps down into the blue water, with its flocks of steam lanches, and gondolas, like gay birds of passage, settled down there ready for flight.
All the light in this buildin' comes down through immense skylights.
There is no danger of folks a-fallin' out of the winders or havin' anybody peek in unless it is the man in the moon.
All round this vast room is a gallery forty feet wide, where you could lock arms and promenade, and talk about hens.
But you wouldn't want to, I don't believe. You'd want to spend every minute a-feastin' your eyes on the Best of the World.
All along the floors of the nave and transepts are displayed the most beautiful sculptures that wuz ever sculped in any part of the world, while t[Pg 423]he walls are covered with paintin's and sculptured panels in relief.
[Pg 424]
That's what they call 'em, because it's such a relief for folks to set down and look at 'em.
Between the promenades and naves and transepts are the smaller rooms, where the private collections of picters are kep and the works of the different Art Schools, and the four corners are filled with smaller picter galleries.
Why, to go through jest one of them annexes, let alone the palace itself, would take a week if you examined 'em as you ort to. Josiah told me that mornin', with a encouraged look onto his face—
"Samantha, after we've seen all the ile paintin's we'll go somewhere, and have a good time."
"But good land! see all the ile paintin's!"
Why, as I told him after we'd wandered through there for hours and hours, sez I, "If we spent every minute of the hull summer we couldn't do justice to 'em all."
And we couldn't. Why, it has been all calculated out by a good calculator, that spend one minute to a picter, and it would take twenty-six days to go through 'em. And good land! what is one minute to some of the picters you see. Why, half a day wuzn't none too long to pour over some on 'em, and when I say pour, I mean pour, for I see dozens of folks weepin' quite hard before some on 'em.
I see dozens of folks weepin' quite hard before some on 'em.
[Pg 425]
For these picters wuzn't picked out haphazard all over the country. No, they had to, every one on 'em, run the gantlet of the most severe and close criticism.
The Jury of Admittance stood in front of that gallery, and over it, as you may say, like the very finest and strongest wire sieve, a-strainin' out all but the finest and clearest merits. No dregs could git through—not a dreg.
I guess that hain't a very good metafor, and if I wuzn't in such a hurry I'd look round and try to find a better one, not knowin', too, but what that Jury of Admittance will feel mad as hens at me to be compared to sieves; but I don't mean the common wire ones, such as tin-peddlers sell. No, I mean the searchin' and elevatin' process by which the very best of our country and the hull world wuz separated from the less meritorious ones, and spread out there for the inspiration and delight of the assembled nations.
And wuzn't it a sight what wuz to be found there!
Landscapes from every land on the globe—from Lapland to the Orient. Tropical forests, with soft southern faces lookin' out of the verdant shadows. Frozen icebergs, with fur-clad figgers with stern aspects, and grizzly bears and ice-suckles.
[Pg 426]
Bits of the beauty of all climes under all skies, dark or sunny. Mountains, trees, valleys, forests, plains and prairies, palaces and huts, ships, boats and balloons. The beauty and the sadness of every season of the year, beautiful faces, inspired faces, humbly faces, strikin' powerful means, and mean cowardly sly liniments looked out on every side of us.
Picters illustratin' every phase of human life, in every corner of the globe, from birth to death, from kingly prosperity and luxurious ease to prisons and scaffolds, the throne, the hospital, the convent, the pulpit, the monastery, the home, the battle-field, the mid-ocean, and the sheltered way, and Heaven and Hell, and Life and Death.
Every seen and spot the human mind had ever conceived wuz here depictered.
Every emotion man or woman ever felt, every inspiration that ever possessed their soul, every joy and every grief that ever lifted or bowed down their heads wuz here depictered.
And seens from the literature of every land wuz illustrated, the world of matter, the world of mind, all their secrets laid bare to the eyes of the admirin' nations.
It wuz a sight—a sight!
[Pg 427]
Gallery after gallery, room after room did we wander through till the gorgeous colorin' seemed to dye our very thoughts and emotions, and I looked at Josiah in a kinder mixed-up, lofty way, as if he wuz a ile paintin' or a statute, and he looked at me almost as if he considered me a chromo.
It wuz a time not to be forgot as long as memory sets up high on her high throne.
Room after room, gallery after gallery, beauty dazzlin' us on every side, and lameness and twinges of rumatiz a-harassin' us in our four extremities.
Why, the sight seemed so endless and so immense, that some of the time we felt like two needles in a haymow, a haymow made up of a vision of loveliness, and the two little needles feelin' fairly tuckered out, and blunted, and browbeat.
Why, we got so kinder bewildered and carried away, that some of the time I couldn't tell whether the masterpiece I wuz a-devourin' with my eyes come from Germany or Jonesville, from France or Shackville, from Holland or from Zoar, up in the upper part of Lyme.
Of course amongst that endless display there wuz some picters that struck such hard blows at the heart and fancy that you can't forgit 'em if you wanted to, which most probable you don't.
[Pg 428]
And now, in thinkin' back on 'em, I can't sort 'em out and lay 'em down where they belong and mark 'em 1, 2, 3, 4, and etcetry, as I'd ort to.
But I'm jest as likely to let my mind jump right from what I see at the entrance to sunthin' that I see way to the latter end of the buildin', and visa versa.
It kinder worries me. I love to even meditate and allegore with some degree of order and system, but I can't here. I must allegore and meditate on 'em jest as they come, and truly a-thinkin' on these picters, I feel as Hosey Bigelow ust to say:
"I can't tell what's comin'—gall or honey."
But some of them picters and statutes made perfect dents in my memory, and can't be smoothed out agin nohow.
There wuz one little figger jest at the entrance where we went in, "The Young Acrobat," that impressed me dretfully.
It wuz a man's hand and arm that wuz a-risin' up out of a pedestal, and on the hand wuz set the cutest little baby you ever see. I guess it wuz the first time that he'd ever sot up anywhere out of the cradle or his ma's arms.
He looked some skairt, and some proud, and too cunnin' for anything, as I hearn remarked by a few hundred female wimmen that day.
[Pg 429]
And like as not it is jest like my incoherence in revery that from that little baby my mind would spring right on to the French exhibit to that noble statute of Jennie D. Ark, kneelin' there with her clasped hands and her eyes lifted as if she wuz a-sayin': "I did hear the voices!"
And so she did hear the language of Heaven, and the dull souls around her wuz too earthly to comprehend the divine harmonies, and so they burnt her up for it.
Lots of folks are burnt up in different fires to-day, for the same thing.
Then mebby my mind will jest jump to the "Age of Iron" or to the "Secrets of the Tomb," or "The Eagle and the Vulture," or "Washington and Lafayette," or "Charity"—a good-lookin' creeter she wuz—she could think of other children besides her own; or mebby it will jump right over onto the "Indian Buffalo Hunt"—a horse a-rarin' right up to git rid of a buffalo that wuz a-pressin' right in under its forelegs.
I don't see how that hunter could stay on his back—I couldn't—to say nothin' to shootin' the arrows into the critter as he's a-doin'.
Or mebby my mind'll jump right over to the "Soldier of Marathon," or "Eve," no knowin' at all where my thoughts will take me amongst them noble marble figgers.
[Pg 430]
And as for picters, my revery on 'em now is a perfect sight; a show as good as a panorama is a-goin' on in my fore-top now when I let my thoughts take their full swing on them picters.
Amongst them that struck the hardest blows on my fancy wuz them that told stories that touched the heart.
There wuz one in the Holland exhibit, called "Alone in the World," a picter that
Comments (0)