In the sunken garden those two shafts, rising from the fountains, looking like stone by day, had become great candles, glowing from the base to the glass globe on top. "They're practically the sole means of illuminating this court. The other lights are merely ornamental. So far as I'm aware nothing just like these shafts has ever been tried in an Exposition or anywhere else. It's a novel Expositional effect. Some people don't like it; but most people admire it immensely. It symbolizes the gold that first drew the multitude to this part of the world. If the golden color had been used more extensively throughout the Exposition it would have helped a lot. Guerin gets it at night by means of the light that shines through the windows and Faville gets it in the light behind those wonderful doorways of his that haven't been praised half as much as they ought to be." The Court of the Ages lured us along the dimly lighted inner court, the arches taking on an even more delicate beauty in the night light. Once within the court we found ourselves under the spell of Mullgardt's genius. The architecture, the cauldrons sending out pink steam, the flaming serpents, the torches on the tower, the warm lights from within the tower, the great ecclesiastical stars, brilliant with electricity, all carried out the idea of the earth, cast off by the sun. In the entrance court we found the effects less magnificent but, in their way, just as beautiful. The lighting emphasized the refinement of the court, the rich delicacy of the ornamentation. "Mullgardt ought to go down into history for this contribution to the Exposition," said the architect. "He has shown that originality is still possible in architecture."