e confusion of tongues had just come to pass and people had not yet
become accustomed to talk anything but Sanscrit or Chinese.

There was a gathering of assorted freaks not surpassed since Noah came
out of the ark, and an assortment of people never seen before. When Mr.
Moody preaches to the Midway Plaisance, surely the scripture will be
fulfilled as to preaching the gospel to all the nations of the earth.

Then the bedlam of strange cries were heard again. These peculiar sounds
came from the Dahomey warriors and amazons, black as night and stupid as
pigs. In thin cloth and hair garments that concealed just a little of
their bodies, the blacks romped as they sang and beat upon long
cartridge shaped drums.

The noisiest part of the parade began with the Algerian village. Drums
resounded, clarinets screeched, castanets clattered, and the shrill
cries of the dancing girls rose above all the tumult. The girls rode in
rolling chairs, and while they were not busy rivaling the banshee of
Ireland, they laughed and flirted to their hearts' content.

The Chinese was the most gorgeous contingent in the column. Costumed in
rare and brilliant silks, ablaze with gold and silver, the Chinese
actors and actresses made a brilliant appearance. But it was the dragon
that wriggled behind them that caught the crowd. It was 125 feet long,
and its mouth was big enough to swallow a man without tearing his
clothes on its fangs. When it passed the beer tunnel in the "Plaisance,"
its glaring eyes turned toward a man whose best friends have been to
Dwight. The man shuddered and drew a long and nervous breath.

"Take me away from here, Bill," the man said to his companion. "I never
thought I could get in this kind of a fix. I'm a quitter right now."

From a distance it looked like a monster sea serpent on a spree. It was
really a dragon, at least that's what the Chinese call it; but it was in
fact the finest exhibit ever beheld of what a diseased imagination can
do for a victim of strong drink. It could easily claim the prize as
being the most terrifying object on earth.

The people from the "Street of Cairo," afoot and mounted on camels and
donkeys, headed their part of the procession with the Turkish flag, and
swift-footed runners guarded the banner, while men in rusty, antique
chain-armor were near to defend. A horde of fakirs and jugglers of all
colors, from jet-black Soudanese to fair-faced Greeks, pressed close at
their heels, stripped