Some Artists at the Fair — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
Some Artists at the Fair
John Stuart Mill · en
The rolling-chairs that run about the grounds and through the buildings
are the salvation of many a fainting spirit. To thousands of human
beings with nothing but a human back and human legs the fair would be a
failure without them. They are support for the weary, strength for the
weak, and hope and a new life for the despairing. The guides who
navigate them are, as a rule, college students, profiting by this
opportunity to see the fair and to secure additional dollars toward
completing their studies. The result is, for the occupant of the chair,
an intelligent and agreeable companion, who is ready and willing to give
any information he may possess. And besides, they are neither sharks nor
liars, but fair and honorable respecters of truth. There is sometimes a
contrast in manners and education between the occupant of the chair and
the man behind that is not in favor of the former. When one sees what is
evidently a citizen with far more money than brains, and without the
faintest appreciation of the beauties that encompass him, wheeled about
at seventy-five cents an hour by a youth so far his superior that any
comparison is impossible, it causes one to realize that Fortune is
indeed an irresponsible flirt, who is never so happy as when doing the
wrong thing.
A not uncommon sight, and one of the countless illustrations of what an
excellent husband the American becomes when properly trained, is that of
the weary, uninterested man, lingering patiently among laces, china, and
views of Switzerland. His heart all the while is off with the machinery,
possibly with that more than human little machine that winds the cotton
on the spools. Such cases are, of course, offset by the devoted women
who wear themselves out in tramping through soulless acres of
agricultural products, locomotives, wagons, models of ships, and all the
other follies that appeal to man.
[Illustration]
The burning question of the hour for the visitor from another city is
the question of finance. He who is worth his million and intends
spending a fortnight in Chicago, will do well to take his million with
him. He may bring some of it away, but that will depend entirely upon
his own capacity for economy. Before registering at the hotel let him be
sure to secure his return ticket, for it is a long walk from Chicago to
New York. These remarks are not intended to discourage all who are not
millionaires from visiting the exhibition. It can be done with less
money. The writer has himself accomplished it. In fact, it is only fair
to say that many of the stories of extortion which have come from the
White City are much exaggerated. The most successful brigands are in the
city of Chicago, and not at the Fair.