Ah! talking of glass, what think you of an enormous French decanter, in which three persons, having gotten inside by a ladder, can sit and dine off a table a yard in circumference?  This is quite an exhibition in itself, I think.  In another part of the building, we have a looking-glass, from Germany, which is the largest that ever was made, and is encased in a splendid frame of Dresden china.  But here is a darling little English steam-engine, so small that you could, after wrapping it up in paper, lay it very comfortably inside an ordinary-sized walnut-shell, while the plate on which it stands is not bigger than a sixpence!

In the very centre of the building, a gigantic crystal fountain diffuses a delicious coolness around, its bright clear waters sparkling, leaping, and playing, as if in delight and astonishment at the splendid and wonderful articles surrounding it.  And there are two immense statues just beside it, looking mightily pleased with the agreeable coolness of the water.  But here are two large bronze lions;—­how terrible they look:  they seem almost as if they were going to jump at us.  There are animals of various kinds in different parts of the Exhibition; stags, horses, foxes, birds, cats, and even a ferocious-looking tiger.

There is a bundle of nails so diminutive you can hardly see them—­another bundle of three thousand nails, one thousand gold, another silver, and the third iron; so light that the whole weighs only three grains,—­a French watch, smaller than a fourpenny piece,—­Hindoo stuffs, so thin you can scarcely feel them, yet are made from rejected cotton-husks,—­a highly-finished model of a palace, from Italy; and a handsome carriage, from Prussia.

But among the curious articles we must notice this imitation of a camelia japonica tree in china, with buds, leaves, and blossoms, all perfect, which came from Germany;—­and that painted oil-cloth from Manchester, covered with the most extraordinary mathematical ornaments, and which took eleven years to complete, and is worth 500 guineas.  And that table, made of 38,000 pieces of wood, of twenty-eight different colours, looking like mosaic, which was sent from Switzerland.  Nor must we forget to look at this piece of gold, on which is engraved “The Lord’s Prayer,” and is yet so small that a common pin-head covers it:  that came from Portsmouth.  And here is a German bed, which being wound up, like a clock, to a certain hour, throws the sleeper out on the ground, when the time comes; no lazy lie-a-beds with that, I fancy!

But here is an odd contribution, also from Germany; it is—­what do you think?—­a piece of lace, darned, and a fine table napkin, also darned! however, don’t laugh, until I explain to you the reason why it has been mended in this way:  an ingenious young lady, wishing to show industrious lasses that torn clothes may be made to look as if they had not been injured in that manner at all, got a piece of cloth, tore it for the purpose, and taking up the stitches neatly, worked thread after thread till she had darned it in such a way that nobody could tell where it had been torn; she then thought of sending a specimen of her industry to the World’s Fair.