Here indeed will be a Crowd Picture with as many phases as a stormy ocean.

Flying machines appear from the Fair Ground north of the city, and circle round and round as they go up, trying to reach the slowly descending plummet.
* * * * * At last, while the throng cheers, one bird-man has attained it.

He brings back his message that the gift is an image, covered loosely with a wrapping that seems to be of spun gold.

Now the many aviators whirl round the descending wonder, like seagulls playing about a ship's mast.

Soon, amid an awestruck throng, the image is on the hillock.