And I thought mebby I could get a tulip bulb—­I had had such poor luck with mine the year before.

But sez I, “Mebby they won’t have none to spare—­I d’no how well they be off for ’em,” but I spozed mebby I would see as many as a dozen or fifteen tulips, and as many roses.

He kinder wanted to go and see the plows and horse-rakes that mornin’, but I capitulated with him by sayin’ if he would go there first with me, anon we would go together to the horse-rake house.

So we sot out the first thing for the Horticultural Buildin’, and good land! good land! when we got to it I wuz jest browbeat and frustrated with the size on’t—­it is the biggest buildin’ that wuz ever built in the world for plants and flowers.

And when you jest think how big the world is, and how long it has stood, and how many houses has been built for posies from Persia and Ingy, down to Chicago and Jonesville, then you will mebby get it into your head the immense bigness on’t—­yes, that buildin’ is two hundred and sixty thousand square feet, and every foot all filled up with beauty, and bloom, and perfume.  It faces the risin’ sun, as any place for flowers and plants ort to.  Like all the rest of the Exposition buildin’s, it has sights of ornaments and statutes.  One of the most impressive statutes I see there wuz Spring Asleep.  It struck so deep a blow onto my fancy that I thought on’t the last thing at night, and I waked up in the night and thought on’t.

There never wuz a better-lookin’ creeter than Spring wuz, awful big too—­riz way up lofty and grand, and hantin’ as our own dreams of Spring are as we set shiverin’ in the Winter.

Her noble face wuz perfect in its beauty, and she sot there with her arms outstretched; and grouped all round her wuz beautiful forms—­lovely wimmen, and babies, and children, all bound in slumber, but, as I should imagine, jest on the pint of wakin’ up.

I guess they wuz all a-dreamin’ about the song of birds a-comin’ back from the south land, and silky, pale green willers a-bendin’ low over gurglin’ brooks, and pink and white may-flowers a-hidin’ under the leafy hollows of Northern hills, and the golden glow of cowslips down in the dusky brown shallows in green swamps, and white clouds a-sailin’ over blue skies, and soft winds a-blowin’ up from the South.

They wuz asleep, but the cookoo’s notes would wake ’em in a minute or two; and then I could see by their clothes that they wuz expectin’ warmer weather.  It wuz a very impressive statute.  Mr. Tafft done his very best—­I couldn’t have done as well myself—­not nigh.  Wall, to go through that buildin’ wuz like walkin’ through fairyland, if fairyland had jest blown all out full of beauty and greenness.