The band-stand was near by, and a fine orchestra had been engaged to play patriotic airs. Booths were all about the grounds. The largest was the main refreshment tent, where dainty little tables were set forth, with Japanese paper table-cloths and napkins all bearing our own national emblems. The waitresses here were thirteen girls who represented the thirteen original States. They wore white dresses and tricolor sashes and caps, with the name of their States in gilt letters. Another booth held all sorts of small articles for sale—fancy-work, from sofa-pillows to needle-books, all made of red, white, and blue silks; photograph frames made of silk flags; dolls dressed in red, white, and blue; scrap-books made of linen of the same colors, and filled with patriotic pictures and verses. Even such prosaic things as dusters and sweeping-caps were of the three colors and found a ready sale. Another booth had flags, fire-works, and Fourth of July badges for sale. The lemonade, in accordance with time-honored tradition, was served by “Rebecca at the Well.” The well had been prettily built by a carpenter in imitation of “The Old Oaken Bucket,” and as Rebecca wore the American colors, the dramatic unities were somewhat lost, but nobody minded, as the lemonade was ice-cold and very good. An Indian wigwam was a gay feature. Jack had this in charge, and had superintended the building of it himself. A tribe of ferocious-looking Indian braves, much befeathered and painted, sold Indian curios, baskets, and beads. The tennis-courts, bowling-alleys, and croquet-grounds were in order, and patrons could indulge in these games by payment of a small fee. Inside the house, too, entertainment was provided. Various indoor games were offered, and there was also a reading-room, with magazines and books for all. In another room was shown an “Historic Loan Collection.” Many of the residents of Greenborough had relics of Revolutionary days, which they loaned for this occasion. As there were many really interesting and valuable specimens, the visitors were quite willing to pay the extra fee required to see them, and the room was well-filled with patrons much of the time. Opposite this room, in another room, was a “Burlesque Loan Collection,” and this attracted quite as much attention. Stub Graham had this in charge, and he deserved credit for the clever and humorous jokes he devised. Catalogues had been prepared, and as an inducement to buy them, a large placard outside the door announced that each purchaser of a catalogue would receive, free of charge, a steel-engraving of George Washington. When these premiums proved to be two-cent postage-stamps, and canceled ones at that, much merriment ensued. Among the so-called Revolutionary relics were such jests as these: “Early Home of George Washington,” represented by an old-fashioned cradle. “Vision of Washington’s Old Age:” a pair of spectacles.