Then the Belgians have a full exhibit of the light, handy vehicles of all shapes, from a barrel to a basket, that they make to run on rails.  Platforms movin’ by the instantaneous action of the Westinghouse brake on a train of one hundred cars is a sight to see.

There are railroads for goin’ like lightin’ over level roads, and goin’ up and down, and all sorts of street cars, a-goin’ by horses, or mules, or lightnin’, as the case might be.  President Polk’s old carriage looked jest like Grandpa Smedly’s great-grandfather’s buggy, that stands in this old stun carriage house, and has stood there for 100 years and more.

And all sorts of gorgeous carriages that wuz ever seen or hearn on, and carts, and wagons, and buggies, from a tallyho coach to a invalid’s chair and a wheelbarrow, and from a toboggan to a bicycle, and palanquins of Japan, China, India, and Africa.

Howdahs for elephants, saddles for camels, donkey exhibits from South America and Egypt, the rig of the water-carriers of Cairo, the milk-sellers of South America, and the cargados, or human pack-horses, of both sexes of that country—­models that show the human and brute forms of labor.

Models of ox-carts, used in Jacob’s time, and in which, I dare presoom to say, Old Miss Jacob ust to go a-visitin’ to old Miss Abraham and Isaac, and mebby stay all day, she and the children.

[Illustration:  Ox-cart in which old Miss Jacob ust to go a-visitin’.]

And pneumatic tubes that I spoze will be used fur more in the future, and for more various uses, and all kinds of balloons and air-ships.

Balloon transportation—­ridin’ through the air swift as the wind—­what idees that riz up under my fore-top, of takin’ breakfast to home, and a-eatin’ supper with the Widder Albert, or some of her folks, and spendin’ the night with the Sphynx, a-settin’ out by moonlight on the pyramids—­a-settin’ on the top stun, my feet on another one, and my chin in my hand, a-meditatin’ on queer things, and a-neighborin’ with ’em.  From Jonesville to the Desert of Sarah, in a flash, as it were.

Where wuz the old democrat—­where, oh, where wuz she?  Ask the ocean waves as they break in thunder on the cliff, and hain’t heard from no more—­ask ’em, and if they answer you, you may hear from the old democrat.

And then there wuz all kinds of vessels, and boats, and steamships, and canal-boats, and yachts, and elevators, and water railways.

Why, right there in plain sight wuz a section sixty feet long of one of the new Atlantic steamers, cut out of the ship, some as you cut a quarter out of an orange, or cut off a stick of candy.

You can see the hull of the ship in that one piece, from the hold to the upper deck—­it looks like a structure five stories high—­it shows the state-room, saloon, music-room, and so forth, fitted up exactly as they are at sea, gorgeous and comogeous in the extreme.

And here is the reproduction of the Viking ship, nine hundred years old—­dug up in a sand-hill in Norway, in 1880.  It is fitted up exactly as the Storm Kings of one thousand years ago used ’em—­thirty-two oars, each seventeen feet long.  Mebby that same ship brung over some Vikings here when the old Newport Mill wuz new.