The farmers' union. (Memphis, Mo.) 1891-1895, 1893-11-09
END OF THE WORLDS COLUM-
E,AN EXPOSITION.
Grafton and song Give Way to Prayer and
Dirge at the Finale Of Joyous Season.
Exercises Held in Festival flall--Lase
Day ShrOuGed in Gloom.


The end came at sunset on Oct 20.
The great Columbian Exposition faded
as quietly and sadly as an autumn day,
and when the helching cannon had sent
a score Of shots to heaven and peitcd
the domes and pinnaclcs with Il million
echoes the giant had died. Silver
throatcd chimes tCllei the knell. MUIR
muring fountains sang the requiem,
white cloGds hung Is the shroud. The
night stole on. the breakers slept, the
lagoons grew as calm Us painted ponds,
the lights b.lnkcd ut and it was over.
1t PASSED rs gently as the whitening of
summer rose, to leave a memory rs
sweet as the fragrance of IN incense
pot. The mighty organ groaned and
wepS, the preacher prayed. the whiz-
ZIny pulleys ceased their jangle. the
rafting wheels hung silent, the thrOt-
ties We're choked.
The waning moon looked down at
midnight upon wilderne.s OF beauty
awaiting the aSsas-ins AK. Columns.
towers and turrets. portals. peristylo
and palaces. DianaS. mermaids and he
roeS. archers. NeptuncS and pyramids,
sculptors' groups and artist, paacls.
treasures of genius and marvcls OF
brain, all stood mute at the altar
side. awaiting the torch to mako
them ashes. It was a sight sadder
than Il funeral and as melancholy As q
winter forest The wind sent shafts
to the marrow and ratified grcwsOmcly
in the withcred leaves and frosted
boughs. and from end TO end the fairy
acres were as sombrr as the valley Of
the shadow of death.
The End Comes in Woe.
There wee no pageants. no long
lines OF gorgeous floats. 10 noisy pro-
cessions. Neither bombs nor mortars
rent the SKY. nor were sizzling rockets
loo: ed. There We're no merry ban iuet-
er>. no concerts. II" jubilecs. The trum-
peters Who hcraldcd the Fair were
silent. and the thousands who sang tho
patrio:ic Hymns IA half year ago were
hushed. The flaming fayots that tlarcd
under the ribs of the gildcd dome were
unlighted. There We're no epics read,
no stridlng meters un oiled, n ma cs-
tic bars blown by tho wind. Tlcro
were no chapcaux, no epaulets, no
gathering of the nations great. No
orators scaled the heights with con-
gratuatory cloqucncc, no gonfalon fell
at the signal of a potcntate. All tho
fetes became funeral pyrcs: rejoicing
hymns were turned to songs of sadness,
and triumphant strains We're dropped
to death marches. Tears ran where
smiles were wont and sorrow filled
breasts where pride was due. Pity for
the end became grief for the calamity
| and all the thousands mOurned tho
tragedy which ended the grandcst
event Of four wonderful centuries.
Fate had been cruel and in its unkind-
ness had added Il pitcous death as tho
climax. Thus the sadness of the end
was twofold and the great Fair went
out under a double cloud.
The final function was in Festival
Hall. President Palmer held the CEN
ter of the line of honor, and on either
side were President Higinbotham and
Director General Davis. Behind them
sat distinguished men. whose h mes
make circuit Of the earth. After an
invocation by Mr.. Barrows and an i'd
dress 10y Mr.. Higinbotham. President
Palmer formally executed the edict of
Congress.
Simple in the extreme were the
closing acts. The war ship and reve-
nue. sloop loos d their guns and all
about the grounds rolled the roar OF
the last act. Sailors were stationed at
each flag mast, and when the first shot
echoed to the shore the halyar,ls were
drawn and the cmblcms of sixty ma
tions We're furlcd. The strcamcrs on
the stats of honor in the main court
came down to earth. the dream was
over and the Worlds Columbian Expo
CT hns