factories, among which everything may be found, from a soda-fountain
or a cigar-stand up to a monster brewery, all devoted at once to
the exemplification and the rendering immediately profitable of some
particular industry. In one ravine an ornate dairy, trim and Arcadian
in its appurtenances and ministers as that of Marie Antoinette and her
attendant Phillises at the Petit Trianon, offers a beverage presumably
about as genuine as that of '76, and much above the standard of
to-day. A Virginia tobacco-factory checkmates that innocent tipple
with "negrohead" and "navy twist." A bakery strikes the happy medium
between the liquid sustenance and the narcotic luxury by teaching
Cisatlantic victims of baking-powders and salæratus how to make Vienna
bread. Recurring to fluids, we find unconquered soda popping up, or
down, from innumerable fonts--how many, may be inferred from the fact
that a royalty of two dollars on each spigot is estimated to place
thirty-two thousand dollars in the strong box of the exposition. Nor
does this measure the whole tribute expected to be offered at these
dainty shrines of marble and silver. The two firms that bought the
monopoly of them pay in addition the round sum of twenty thousand
dollars. It speaks well for the condition of the temperance cause
that beer is the nearest rival of aerated water. An _octroi_ of three
dollars per barrel is estimated to yield fifty thousand dollars,
or two thousand dollars less than soda-water. Seventy-five thousand
dollars is the aggregate fee of the restaurants. Of these last-named
establishments, the French have two. The historic sign of the Trois
Frères Provençaux is assumed by a vast edifice in one of the most
conspicuous parts of the enclosure, sandwiched between the Press and
the Government. The "Sudreau" affects the fine arts and cultivates
with like intimacy the society of Memorial Hall. The German refectory,
Lauber's, a solid, beery sort of building, shows a fine bucolic
sense by choosing a hermitage in the grove between Agricultural