There, too, were tables loaded with work from four orphan asylums in New York and Brooklyn, and we saw sewing, bread-making, net-making and cabinet-work done by young hands that have lost their hold on fathers’ and mothers’ fingers. Other friendly hands are leading them to be useful and skillful in many good works. We may have been accustomed to think of Indian boys and girls as little savages, unable to do anything except to use a bow and arrow or to take care of the wigwam. But the exhibition included also a display of objects made by Indian children at school. There was a set of harness, a pair of shoes, and some sensible coffee-pots made by Indian boys and girls. Like so many others, they are learning to use their hands. We may pity those halt and blind, those neglected children from the wilderness, and those little ones who have known grief; but see how brave they are! They have wiped away all tears and found it sweet and wise to learn to work, to forget their griefs in industry. Depend upon it, if we had learned nothing more by coming to this exhibition than this, we should have learned a great deal—that work is a cure for many ills, that work actually means happiness. [Illustration: WORKING-DRAWINGS AND MODEL OF A SUSPENSION BRIDGE. DRAWN AND CONSTRUCTED BY THE BOYS OF THE GRAMERCY PARK SCHOOL.] Near the door of the main hall was a fine model of a suspension bridge with towers and cables complete. Beneath it were drawings showing how the bridge was made. This was the work of the boys of the Gramercy Park School and Tool-house Association. They drew the plans, and constructed the model bridge from the working drawings. They built up the foundations and towers, piece by piece, and strung the cables and suspended the roadway. All, too, while the builders were attending school and without loss of time from their regular lessons. [Illustration: EXHIBIT BY THE CRIPPLED BOYS’ BRUSH FACTORY.] And even now I have not told you of half the things in that beautiful exhibition. As we sat there, people were flocking in, young and old, teachers and pupils, eager to see what children can do. And now, what does it all mean? Let us have a little talk about it. To that exhibition, more than four thousand children sent the work of their hands. We do not think of them as Western children, as Eastern boys, or New York girls, as Hebrews, Catholics, as orphans, or blind, or anything else. They are children at school, and there is the wonder of it all. It is plain their schools are not like other schools and are very different from those I saw when a boy. It is plain that those children can do many things that children without their advantages can not do. And besides, they are probably happier than any children who ever went to school before.