Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1895-05-14
1.-THE WHITE CITY,"
SNOW AND FROST CAUSE HAVOC IN
JACKSON PARK, CHICAGO.

t'6
SNOW AND FROST CAUSE HAVOC IN
JACKSON PARK, CHICAGO.
The SHOWS and frosts OF two winters
had done their work well In Jackson
Park, said a Chicago paper. The head
of the statue, long ago rotted of, had
fallen to the ground. 1t lay there amid
heap of rubbish, the sculptured face
upturned to the sky, the wonderful eyes
gazing unflinchiugly at the moving sun.
The pedestal was crunbling away, por-
tions Of the discoverer's cloak and sew
eral pieces Of his armor had gone the
way OF his head, and, like the old rustic
porch in the song, lay scattered and fall
en- to the ground.
Across the base OF the statue were the
letters ''C-L-MBUs." They served their
purpose, for, despite the missing vowels,
the emotional young woman said, with
deep feeling, "Poor Columbus" The
workman who sat on projecting ledge
Of the pedestal saw no occasion for any
undue expression Of sorrow. The SHOWS
and frosts Of two winters had scooped
out little hollow In the pedestal. and
the hollow made comfortable seat for
tired workman. The slanting April
sun shed pleasant warmth upon the
workman, who ate heartily Of his lunch,
enjoyed the comfortable seat and the
warmth. He was happy, and, as he
tersely remarked, he didn't see that the
statue had any kick coming. This was
so msnifestly the sensible view TO take
that the emotional young woman passed
on, with the conviction that very high
things may, and usually do, return to
their base uses.
But once, upon a summer day, dozen
regiments of cavalry Numbered by the
place where the headless statue stands.
says the Chicago Tim.s-Herald. Behind
the cavalry came regiments OF infantry,
stirring the white dust and throwing u
against the sun In clouds. And artillery
followed with rumble Of wheels and
neighing Of horses and proud, hoarse
shouts of command. And, as the csysl-
ry and artillery and infantry passed the
place where the statue stood, flags were
dipped. arms were presented, and a
NlAUl~U uukt kN-t fl> aa'
stood uncovered. and all the people with
him. The head Of that statue lies amid
a heap OF rubbish now, and the crum-
bling pedestal makes comfortable seat
for workmen at the noon hour.
Time has not dealt gently with the
ruins OF Jackson Park. The April sun Is
white aud glaring; not mellow and
tender, like the sun of autumn, which
softened the nskedness Of the ruin and
made Il almost beautiful. A few work
men are hs,lessly engaged in complete
ing the destruction. They call IL resto-
ration. The onlookers. who see them at
work with sledges and cold chisels. call
IL chaos. The men work slowly and
seem TO produce no results. One won
ders how long they will be In finishing
the task they have begun.
The same twisted masses OF iron are
heaped where shining palaces once
stood. Once that headless statue stood
beneath an archway a hundred feet high,
and a pillared loggia stretched on either
side into dim perspectives OF blue and
gold. The walls Of the palace have fall
en- away, and In the shattered pillars
sparrows build their nests. Here and
there a statue remains. Ii stands, white
aud clear, against blue expanse OF sky
and makes a convenient resting place for
sentimental people who like 10 harrow
up their feelings with tender memories
and talk of the former glory OF Greece.
They come In pairs usually, and usually,
too, the pair is composed of young
man and a young woman. They wander
from place 10 place, speaking In low
tones and psusing frequently to rest.
You remember this placer" says the
Young woman.
"Yes, remember. 1t was where We
took the gondola that night"
at was lovely night" says the
Young woman, dreamily.
"Yes. lovely" says the young man,
rapidly becoming maudlln under the in
fluence of the soft voice and flood OF
memories.
"And Annie was with u.s." says the
young woman. =.
'.was she? / didn't remember that"
"Didn't you? thought you'd remem-
ber that" says the young woman, and
they both pass and disappear behind a
broken statue which once symbolized an
allegory and stood for Truth.
The monastery Of La Rabida has been
spared for what, In the swift destruction
OF all things around it, may be regarded
as a green old age. Ii stands silent and
deserted on its lonely promontory,
buffeted by the waves that sweep the
sea wall. 1t has made brave stand
against the SHOWS and frosts OF two win
tiers. The tiles are crumbling from the
roof. some Of the windows are broken
in, some of the doors are hanging out
ward, and the dead weeds stand tall and
quaint in the quiet courtyard. But from
the towers the iron crosses still point
heavenward. Time has spared them
and the statue Of the republic near by,
no longer shining in raiment OF gold,
but in new and fairer garb Of the pur-
est white.
All the rest is ruin, brooding heavily
on the place that used to intoxicate with
its fanfares, its peals Of bells, It's
pageants, its people.