Dorothy's Tour

“As there is a constant call for books of reference from the Capitol when legislators often want a volume for instant use, an underground tunnel has been made between the two buildings. This contains a cable carrier upon which books can be sent back and forth,” explained Mr. Dauntrey. “But haven’t you seen enough of the library now?”

“There is Mr. Ludlow!” exclaimed Dorothy, “and I think he is calling us.”

“Yes, let us go over to him,” added Mrs. Calvert. “Come.”

“Ah, here you all are,” said Mr. Ludlow. “I called to you just now because there is one painting I would like to have you all see before you go upstairs to the restaurant.”

“Is it here?” questioned Dorothy.

“No. You follow me and I will bring you to it in just a few seconds,” answered Mr. Ludlow.

“Here we are. I want you all to follow this series of pictures.”

“It is called the evolution of the book,” added Mrs. Calvert.

The series begins with a picture representing the means that the prehistoric men took to commemorate an event singly – the creation of the cairn, nothing more nor less than the piling up of stones. Then comes a picture illustrating oral tradition – an Arab story writer of the desert. The third represents an Egyptian carving hyroglyphics on a tomb. These are the forerunners and the next is picture writing, represented by an American Indian painting some tribal story or event. In lieu of paper he uses a skin. The fifth is shown by a figure of a monk sitting by the embrasure of his cell, laboriously decorating the pages of some sacred book of the Middle Ages. And finally, the initial attainment of modern methods is shown by a scene in the shop of Guttenburg, where the original printer is seen examining a proof sheet, while an employe looks over his shoulder, and another assistant has the lever of a crudely constructed press in hand.

They all thought this series of pictures a beautiful one, and very interesting.

Dorothy commented, “If they had not discovered how to print and make books, I wonder if we would have had a library like this one here, filled with stones all covered with hyroglyphics?”

“I hardly think so,” answered Mr. Ludlow, “for we could never get so much stone in a building. But come now. We will go upstairs to the little restaurant and sit down and rest for a few minutes.”

So taking the elevator they reached the restaurant which is located in the upper floor of the building, and finding a large table, they seated themselves.

They ordered ice cream for the girls, and the men took lemonade.

While refreshing themselves, Mr. Ludlow said, “I would like to see you all in the morning at ten o’clock. I will then disclose our plans to you for the next few weeks. Also, to-morrow, our number will be increased by three more singers who will join us here. They are Miss Dozzi and Mrs. Helmholz and Signor de Reinzzi.”

Every one said they would be on time in the morning, and started to go back to the hotel. On the way out from the library, Dorothy asked, “Mr. Ludlow, are all these pictures and pieces of statuary done by Italians and other foreigners?”

“No, indeed,” he answered. “The decorations are wholly the work of American architects, painters and sculptors, more than fifty of whom participated in the work. So that, you see, the library is an exhibit of the native art and ability of the citizens of the United States and a memorial to them.”

CHAPTER XIII.

SIGHT-SEEING

The next morning they all hurried to the private sitting room of Mr. Ludlow’s suite, where he had asked them to assemble.

“Aunt Betty and Alfy,” called Dorothy, “both of you must come too, so you can hear what Mr. Ludlow has to say, for you know you belong to the company, too.”

Ruth rushed up to Dorothy and whispered, “I think you were very mean, keeping Mr. Dauntrey all to yourself last night, and making me stay with Mr. Ludlow. He was so cross. I hope he is better natured to-day, or when we rehearse this afternoon we will all have trouble.”

“I didn’t take Mr. Dauntrey,” answered Dorothy in a very surprised tone of voice. “I didn’t seek his company. He just took us and put us in a taxicab and that’s all.”

“Sh!” whispered Ruth, “here he is now. Isn’t he a handsome man?”

“I don’t particularly care for his style. He is too effeminate looking. Come over here and sit down by Aunt Betty and I,” and Dorothy started to walk over to where the others sat. Ruth did not follow her, however, but remained just where she was.

“And how is Miss Ruth, to-day?” inquired Mr. Dauntrey. “I am quite longing for our real work to start so I can hear you sing. I am sure it will be a great pleasure.”

Mr. Ludlow entered just then as Ruth looked up to Mr. Dauntrey, and murmured, “Ah, that was so nice of you to say.”

“Are you all here?” inquired Mr. Ludlow. “Let me take a little account of you.” Mentally he ran over the small list of people. “All ready then. All sit down and make yourselves comfortable. I will only detain you a few minutes now. We are going to have a very important recital in the new National Theatre to-morrow night. I have a little typewritten letter for each of you. I will give these to Mr. Dauntrey and he will hand them to you.” Turning to Mr. Dauntrey he handed him a number of white envelopes, saying: “There now, don’t neglect to give each one the proper envelope.”

Turning once more to the rest of them, he continued, “If by any chance you don’t happen to like the instructions contained in those envelopes, report at once to Mr. Dauntrey and he will take up the matter with me, or refer you to me.”

Mr. Ludlow had had many dealings with performers before, and he knew from experience that it was better to give instructions this way. It avoided open contentions which were likely when one artist thought he or she was slighted, and enabled each one to know exactly what they had to do, for there was no mistaking written orders.

“The new National Theatre,” continued Mr. Ludlow, “is on Pennsylvania avenue near Thirteenth street, and is of great capacity and comfort. I hope you will all do your best for I have written to the President, and have asked him to accept, as a token of our respect, a box for that night. I hope he honors us with his presence, and it may afford you all an opportunity to meet him personally. I expect this concert to be a big thing for us. This city is favorably disposed toward classical concerts, and Mr. Dauntrey has worked hard sending out special announcements for us.

“I expect each of you to do your very best and look your very best. Always look your best. Looks go a great way. If people see you enter the stage confidently and look nice – nice and neat, not gaudy, not cheap or overdressed, just good simple dresses, and not made in outlandish styles – their first impression is very apt to be a lasting one. There, I think that is enough of a lecture. I plan to go from here to Pittsburgh, and, with several stops, on to Chicago. From Chicago on to St. Louis, and from there with a half dozen stops, if we are successful, to San Francisco. Just what we will do then I can’t tell now. But I think that is enough to know now.”

“But what hotels are we to stop in at those places, Mr. Ludlow?” inquired Miss Winters.

“I suppose all you fair ladies will want to have a list of the hotels in advance,” laughed Mr. Ludlow, “and you shall have duplicate route lists with dates, which you can send to your friends so you can have mail each morning. I may want you to give two concerts here in Washington, but I am not sure yet,” added Mr. Ludlow. “We also may have to run down to Mount Vernon and give a concert there, so I want you all to be ready to render something different than what you are to use to-morrow. You can each select your own piece. Is there anything now you want to ask me?” he said finally, turning so as to see them all.

“Well,” he continued, “if there is nothing else we will adjourn till this afternoon when I have made appointments with some of you to come here alone so that I may have an idea of how you are doing. If you all would care to, I think it would be a good thing if we visited the Capitol now. You are privileged in each city to do as much sight-seeing as you can and care to without getting over tired.”

They were all appreciative of this courtesy, and thought that that would make their tour a very very pleasant one. Just as soon as Mr. Dauntrey had handed them their envelopes, they departed for their rooms to get hats and coats and be ready to start at once. Aunt Betty also had her guide book, and in a very short time they were all ready for a visit to the Capitol.

The Capitol building commands a central and slightly hilltop position. The grounds in front of the building are perfectly level, but in the rear slope downwards towards the Potomac flats. In the northwestern part of the park is an ivy-covered rest-house, one window of which looks into a grotto.

Ruth thought this a pretty spot indeed, and exclaimed, “Oh, just see here, isn’t this a romantic spot? I could sit here for hours and dream.”

“Wouldn’t that be rather lonesome, Miss Ruth?” said Mr. Dauntrey to her, softly. “Wouldn’t you rather have someone else here with you?”

Ruth did not answer this question, but just gave him an adorable little glance.

“The ground immediately in front of the Capitol is the plaza,” said Mr. Ludlow. “Here vast crowds assemble to witness presidential inaugurations.”

Three flights of broad steps led up to the main entrance, an architecturally effective feature. The southern wing contains the House of Representatives and the northern one the Senate chamber.

“The central portico,” remarked Mrs. Calvert, “I would like to have you notice particularly. It dates back from 1825. The allegorical group cut in sandstone was designed by the President, John Quincy Adams.”

“What does it represent?” questioned Alfy.

“The group represents the genius of our beloved America,” answered Mrs. Calvert. “America is resting her shield upon an altar, while an eagle rests at her feet. She is listening to hope, and points in response to Justice.”

“I think you have told us a very good story of that piece, Mrs. Calvert, and as you are just as well, perhaps better acquainted with this place than I am, do you mind explaining the things occasionally, so as to help me out?” asked Mr. Ludlow.

“Why, it is a pleasure to me, I assure you,” answered Mrs. Calvert, gracefully. “You see I have been here often and I have my indispensable Rand, McNally guide book.”

“Right here where you are standing,” interrupted Mr. Dauntrey, for he wished them to understand that he had been to Washington before and knew something of the place, “is where all the presidents of the United States since the time of Jackson have been inaugurated, the chief justice adminstrating the oath of office here in full view of the onlookers.”

The large bronze doors were thrown back, and all entered the building itself. The entrance takes one immediately into the rotunda, which is of enormous size. The floor is of sandstone, the rotunda being nearly 100 feet in diameter, and almost twice that high. A balcony runs around it, and strangely interesting is the fact that this balcony has a very good whispering echo. The decoration of this huge place is confined mostly to the walls, but there are a few pieces of statuary on the floor.

The great wall space is given to historical pictures of considerable size, and all are familiar to everyone through their reproduction on postals, currency and postage stamps.