From then on down the lake front it is a mirage. The fabulous sky line of Chicago unrolls like a souvenir leaflet down blocks of sky scrapers and spires, miles of It. Suddenly you are in the watery background of the fair. There are the pure towers of the Federal building; lights swing high in the air as the sky ride cars shuttle across the lagoon; there are the livid blue green and intense vermilion of ttys electrical group. Why does no one tell you about the color at the fair? What do the black and white pictures mean after you’ve seen deep electric blue towers under a moon, or citron yellow walls under the noon daysun?I t“For every moment of awe, there Is one of chortling. No sooner have you stepped Into the street* from the boat landing than you spot a tired Iowa farmer trying to relax at a refreshment oasis, in an angular chromium chair that he knows he can’t trust. Then there is the charming conceit that led the management to place the House of David booth next to an exhibit of patent razors.