“All this is now a memory. The places that knew these merry parties shall know them no more forever. The Samoan now sits serenely under his island palm; the Bedouin is again astride his steed, and with shaded eyes looks off across the desert; the Egyptian 'neath the shadow of the mighty pyramids, recounts the marvels of his half year in the New World; and the sad-eyed Cingalese woman tells her sisters in 'the gorgeous East’ about the wondrous West; while the American, whose energy and genius reared it all, now sees those sights through a darkened glass, and faintly hears the once familiar sounds, muffled and indistinct, as of a distant troop of boys at play. He goes plodding on in paths of busy commerce, farther and farther along, till time and distance intervene, and Midway sights grow dimmer still, and Midway sounds sink to a whisper.” * * * * * These then are the feelings that cause the Thespian such sorrow. He hates to think that before snow flies this gay scene will have vanished as a dream, never to be seen again. “Cheer up, my dear fellow,” says Aleck, “there will be other fairs as great as this.” “But never again a Midway. However, let us throw dull care to the winds. It ill becomes us to mourn, we who are butterflies of the hour. What would you now, my lord?” Wycherley smiles again--the passing of his grief has been very rapid--for his nature is buoyant. “I have no plans. We can move around until it is time to go. I am impressing this scene on my mind so that at any future day I may reproduce it by simply closing my eyes. When before now, on American soil, could you see such groups as that sauntering along?” nodding in the direction of a squad of Algerians and Moors walking past, clad in the turban and caftan, burnoose and colored robes of their class, with the inevitable heavy slippers on their feet. Close behind come a trio of Celestials chattering like parrots, while in sight at the same time are one or more natives of India, Dahomey, and Lapland, representing the antipodes. It is the bringing together of people who live at the frozen north, and those from the burning equator; the exposition of their home life, their peculiar habits, their war customs, and marriage ceremonies, that lends such a charm to a gathering like this. Contrast it by a visit to the Liberal Arts building and see what civilization does for the human family, what wonderful treasures are within the grasp of everyone who lives to-day in an enlightened community. Just as the squad of Moors and Algerians move past in their sauntering way, Wycherley is heard to utter an exclamation. “Who would have believed it?” he says. “What now?” asks Aleck, wondering if his companion is dreaming of the fortune he is to win or lose on the morrow. “She is a flirt, I do believe,” continues the actor. “Oh, it’s the dark-eyed Spanish senorita who worries the boy. Never mind; remember there’s as good fish in the sea as ever were caught.”