The architectural side of the Fountain of Ceres, with its pleasing proportions, is most satisfying to the eye. It was a happy selection to place the Goddess of Agriculture between the Food Products Palace and the Palace of Agriculture. Ceres strikes the keynote of this delightfully beautiful court. With corn sceptre and cereal wreath, Ceres is poised on the globe, the winds of the Golden Gate blowing thru her drapery. Below on the die of the fountain are graceful figures in relief suggesting the decorations of a Greek vase. Eight joyous, happy creatures trip past you, some with tambourines, others with pipes sounding roundelays, or carrying festoons of flowers. The Survival of the Fittest Robert Ingersoll Aitken, Sculptor This is the initial expression of martial spirit, when the first combat is seen and man by physical force seeks to override the power of his fellows. Far back in the childhood of history one finds, as often to-day is the case, that woman is the motive for the fray. Three combatants are here - the one on the right separated from the most powerful by the hand of her who loves him. The cause of the trouble stands at the left, steadfastly watching to see which of those that seek her is to be the victor. A glance tells you that he of powerful build in the center of the panel is to hold sway. He it is who is the most fitting survivor. Earth Robert Ingersoll Aitken, Sculptor A very remarkable figure, her head hanging forward, lies stretched in slumber. It is the sleeping Earth. From her come the great trees whose ramifying roots extend in all directions. Man is seen wresting from her stone and precious metals. Wonderfully has Robert Aitken worked out the Mother Earth idea. She has brought forth many times and yet is ever young. It is keenly interesting to look at "Earth" and then at Michelangelo's "Night" to see the source of inspiration. Wildflower Edward Berge, Sculptor At sight of your form, I seem now to see A bright stretch of color across a broad lea, Where the wildflowers sway to and fro in the breeze, Where the winds sing soft lullabies up in the trees Where all is as fresh, free and wholesome as you, Little Wildflower, blooming, so sweet and so true. And I come from the flight of my far-away dream As I look and I listen, to me it would seem That I hear a small voice in a most charming way Say, "Goodmorrow! Goodmorrow! Take time while you may, Just step up yet closer; I'll give you a chance To have something far sweeter than just a bright glance." Appendix The Sculptors