p-to-date of places, like Chicago.
The vanishing points of long distances, where, as it were, one can
never hope to reach, produce in the mind a kind of sorrow; while the
curve, which conceals the unseen, urges on to pursue and attain to that
which is beyond. Audubon Park, which we visited, and the Arboretum
produce more pleasing effects by the winding walks and constant variety
of beautiful trees and flowers. It is rather a doleful thing to make
even the very best kept cemeteries places for lounging pleasure.

In the incongruity of such a situation, the frequent little green
lizards flashing over the marble tombstones were a diversion. We caught
one of them, and it was most curious to see it change color in its
nervous alarm. From the most vivid green it became a dull blood red,
and then brown, panting as if its heart would break; and not until it
was well away from us did it return to its normal emerald tint.

It must be confessed that the ludicrous ever lurks near one in such
places, and often, also, that which is sadder than sad. For instance,
in the midst of the silent sombreness of the French cemeteries it was a
dreary incident in the drama of life to see the placards of "For sale"
on monuments whose occupation was gone, for they who were enclosed
therein were, for some cause or another, to be ousted from their rest.

After we left the cemeteries some of our party had an _al fresco_
lunch under some live-oak trees, where an honest German catered to our
wants with the well-known products of the Fatherland. It was hot even
there, but we wiled away an hour or so of rest in most satisfactory
fashion.

We did the French market early in the morning, but possibly we were not
early enough; for the whole place, display, and everything there seemed
tame and commonplace. I found, however, pleasant study in some of the
people, especially the poor, but aristocratic looking women with blue
jean sunbonnets on, market baskets on their arms, and wearing dresses
of most uncrinoline proportions.

We visited the new "St. Charles," where we all had dinner. The stay at
this hotel brought back to mind the time, so long ago, when I first saw
New Orleans. It was in January, 1870, shortly after the close of the
War of the Rebellion. We were at the consecration of Bishop Pierce, at
Mobile, Alabama, and visited New Orleans ere returning home. What
memories came to me of the journey south through the historic
battle-fields of the "Lost C