Summary

John Henry Goldfrap The Boy Scouts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition

Andy told him. “To me they’re all real, and when I find myself surrounded by that wonderful foreign atmosphere, it’s just like I’d taken wings and flown over there to Africa, or Asia, or the islands of the Far East. Rob, make him stop trying to interfere with my pleasure. Just because one fortune-teller riled him, Tubby sneers at everything that wears a Turkish fez, a Bedouin bournoose or a Persian caftan. I guess I know how to sift the chaff from the wheat. And a fellow who means to be a world traveler some day ought to rub up against these sort of people all he can.”
Source: Gutenberg

John Henry Goldfrap The Boy Scouts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition

Hiram’s lip curled and he snickered, but Andy pretended not to hear. To Hiram’s mind any one who could confess to caring for such frivolous things when there was a building not far away just jammed with the most marvelous inventions known to modern science and ingenuity—well, it bordered on silliness. But then “many men, many minds,” and perhaps it is just as well that people do not all think alike. There is a deal of truth in that old proverb to the effect that what is “one man’s food may be another’s poison.”
Source: Gutenberg

John Henry Goldfrap The Boy Scouts at the Panama-Pacific Exposition

Tubby soon tired of it, and as for Hiram it seemed to be pretty much of a bore. One whose heart and mind were wrapped up with all sorts of inventions could not be expected to content himself gazing upon works of art; they were too tame for his spirit; what Hiram delighted in was the whirr of machinery, the clack of the aëroplane propeller, and kindred objects that meant real work for him.
Just how it happened that about the middle of the morning they found themselves once more treading the devious ways of the Amusement Zone neither Rob nor Tubby nor Hiram could somehow understand.
Source: Gutenberg

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