All through our Civil War the slaves on the Southern plantations had an abiding faith that the terrible conflict would result in freedom for their race. Just so through all the busy preparations of the Centennial， the women of the nation felt sure that the great national celebration could not pass without the concession of some new liberties to them. Hence they pressed their claims at every point， at the Fourth of July celebration in the exposition buildings， and in the Republican and Democratic nominating conventions； hoping to get a plank in the platforms of both the great political parties.
The Woman's Pavilion upon the centennial grounds was an afterthought， as theologians claim woman herself to have been. The women of the country， after having contributed nearly one hundred thousand dollars to the centennial stock， found there had been no provision made for the separate exhibition of their work. The centennial board， of which Mrs. Gillespie was president， then decided to raise funds for the erection of a separate building， to be known as the Woman's Pavilion. It covered an acre of ground， and was erected at an expense of thirty thousand dollars朼 small sum in comparison with the money which had been raised by women and expended on the other buildings， not to speak of the State and national appropriations， which the taxes levied on them had largely helped to swell.
The Pavilion was no true exhibit of woman's art. Few women are， as yet， owners of the business which their industry largely makes remunerative.
Cotton factories， in which thousands of women work， are owned by men. The shoe business， in some branches of which women are doing more than half the work， is under the ownership of men. Rich embroideries from India， rugs of downy softness from Turkey， the muslin of Decca， anciently known as "The Woven Wind，" the pottery and majolica ware of P. Pipsen's widow， the cartridges and envelopes of Uncle Sam， Waltham watches， whose finest mechanical work is done by women， and ten thousand other industries found no place in the pavilion. Said United States Commissioner Meeker of Colorado， "Woman's work comprises three-fourths of the exposition； it is scattered through every building； take it away， and there would be no exposition."
But this pavilion rendered one good service to woman in showing her capabilities as an engineer. The boiler， which furnished the force for running its work， was under the charge of a young Canadian girl， Miss Allison， who， from childhood， had loved machinery， spending much time in the large saw and grist mills of her father， run by engines of two and three hundred horse-power， which she sometimes managed for amusement. When her name was proposed for running the pavilion machinery， it caused much opposition.
It was said that the committee would， some day， find the pavilion blown to atoms； that the woman engineer would spend her time reading novels instead of watching the steam gauge； that the idea was impracticable and should not be thought of. But Miss Allison soon proved her capabilities and the falseness of these prophecies by taking her place in the engine room and managing its workings with perfect ease. Six power looms， on which women wove carpets， webbing， silks， etc.， were run by this engine. At a later period the printing of The New Century for Woman， a paper published by the centennial commission in the woman's building， was done by its means.
Miss Allison declared the work to be more cleanly， more pleasant， and infinitely less fatiguing than cooking over a kitchen stove. "Since I have been compelled to earn my own living，" she said， "I have never been engaged in work I like so well. Teaching school is much harder， and one is not paid so well."
She expressed her confidence in her ability to manage the engines of an ocean steamer， and said that there were thousands of small engines in use in various parts of the country， and no reason existed why women should not be employed to manage them，杅ollowing the profession of engineer as a regular business，朼n engine requiring far less attention than is given by a nursemaid or a mother to a child.
But to have made the Woman's Pavilion grandly historic， upon its walls should have been hung the yearly protest of Harriet K. Hunt against taxation without representation； the legal papers served upon the Smith sisters when， for their refusal to pay taxes while unrepresented， their Alderney cows were seized and sold； the papers issued by the city of Worcester for the forced sale of the house and lands of Abby Kelly Foster， the veteran abolitionist， because she refused to pay taxes， giving the same reason our ancestors gave when they resisted taxation； a model of Bunker Hill monument， its foundation laid by Lafayette in 1825， but which remained unfinished nearly twenty years， until the famous German danseuse， Fanny Elssler， gave the proceeds of a public performance for that purpose. With these should have been exhibited framed copies of all the laws bearing unjustly upon women杢hose which rob her of her name， her earnings， her property， her children， her person； also the legal papers in the case of Susan B. Anthony， who was tried and fined for claiming her right to vote under the Fourteenth Amendment， and the decision of Mr. Justice Miller in the case of Myra Bradwell， denying national protection for woman's civil rights； and the later decision of Chief Justice Waite of the United States Supreme Court against Virginia L. Minor， denying women national protection for their political rights； decisions in favor of State rights which imperil the liberties not only of all women， but of every white man in the nation.
