Surrounding the Fair-grounds and in close proximity were shows of every description. Conspicuous among these were Forest Park Highlands, a veritable Coney Island; Luna Park; Delmar Garden, the scene of the celebrated extravaganza “Louisiana,” the old mill-wheel and “the girl in blue,” “the cave of the wind,” and “the Queen of the Gypsy fortune-tellers,” the Delmar Race-track, where gathered together could be found the most famous thoroughbred racers of the world, with their coterie of noted jockeys and attendants. “Old Heidelberg,” in the German village, was the bohemia of the outskirts of the big show; here, to the strains of “Die Wacht am Rhein,” it was strictly proper to eat “hot-dogs” and drink cold steins of imported “hoff-brau.” Sundays, when the Fair was closed, the permanent summer resorts of St. Louis were flooded with people. Montesano, an island in the Mississippi River connected by a fleet of steamboats, was the most favored Sunday resort; the trip down the river alone broke the monotonoy of the quietude of a hot summer day. The island, with its groves of shady maple trees and inviting dells, extending from the smooth sandy beach and through the interior, was an ideal spot to while away the midday hours in lingering lassitude. There were dancing, boating, fishing, roller-coasting, flirtations, and all that goes to make up an ideal pleasure resort. Along the beach, children with diminutive spades dug holes in the sand in search for shells. Games of all descriptions were conducted quietly, and with far less compunction than under the restraint and restrictive laws elsewhere enforced. Merrimac Highlands and Creve Cœur Lake, reached by scenic railways, were also popular places of amusement. The daily average attendance at the exposition was sixty thousand, and those represented nations of all countries and zones. It was very amusing to hear some of the nonsensical questions that were asked by our rural friends from the land of the sage-brush and cactus. On one occasion I was approached by an elderly lady with the following query, “Soldier, would you kindly tell me what time they feed the lagoons?” I was nonplussed at the question, but ventured to ask, “Is it a bird or an animal?” She wasn’t sure which, she said, but a friend of hers had told her that it was a mighty interesting sight. I had heard of raccoons, loons, and baboons with Mr. Hagenbach’s wild animal show, and, knowing these had to be fed, I directed the misinformed old lady to this site on the Pike, where I trust her misconstruction of the word or misinformation was amended.