fifty-eight feet by one hundred and seven, with nineteen thousand
feet of wall-space. Conceding this liberally to foreign exhibitors, an
association of American photographers erected a hall of their own in
another direction, upon Belmont Avenue beyond the Judges' Pavilion.
This will serve to exhibit the art in operation under an American sun,
and enable our photographers to compare notes and processes with their
European fellows, who treat under different atmospheric conditions a
wider range of subjects. This is the largest studio the sun, in his
capacity of artist on paper, has ever set up, as the hall provided
for him by the exposition is the largest gallery he has ever filled.
Combined, they may reasonably be expected to bear some fruit in the
way of drawing from him the secret he still withholds--the addition
of color to light and shade in the fixed images of the camera. This
further step seems, when we view within the camera the image in
perfect panoply of all its hues, so very slight in comparison with
the original discovery of Daguerre, that we can hardly refer it to a
distant future.

Questions of finance naturally associate themselves with sitting for
one's portrait, even to the sun. A national bank becomes a necessity
to their readier solution, be they suggested by this or any other item
of expense. Such an institution has consequently a place in the outfit
of the Centennial. Here it stands within its own walls, under its own
roof and behind its own counter. The traditional cashier is at home in
his parlor, the traditional teller observes mankind from his rampart
of wire and glass, and the traditional clerk busy in the rear studies
over his shoulder the strange accent and the strange face. Over and
above the conveniences for exchange afforded by the bank, it
will introduce to foreigners the charms of one of our newest
inventions--the greenback. This humble but heterodox device, not