s, that Oriental beauties, with all their splendor, are not
especially clean. Certain it is that our Occidental sultana dresses
her fair head with towers and spires, and hangs about her neck long
rows of gems in the shape of stately and elegant dwellings,--yet,
descending to her feet, we sink in mud and mire, or tumble unguardedly
into excavations set like traps for the unwary, or oust whole colonies
of rats from beneath plank walks where they have burrowed securely
ever since "improvements" began. At some seasons, indeed, there is no
mud; because the high winds from the lake or the prairies turn the mud
into dust, which blinds our eyes, fills our mouths, and makes us
Quakers in appearance and anything but saints in heart.
Chicago-walking resembles none but such as Christian encountered as he
fled from the City of Destruction; yet in this case the ills are those
of a City of _Con_struction.--sure to disappear as soon as the
builders find time to care for such trifles. Chicago people, it is
well known, walk with their heads in the clouds, and, naturally, do
not mind what happens to their feet. It is only strangers who exclaim,
and sometimes more than exclaim, at the dangers of the way. Cast-away
carriages lie along the road-side, like ships on Fire Island beach.
Nobody minds them. If you see a gentleman at a distance, progressing
slowly with a gliding or floundering pace, you conclude he has a horse
under him, and, perhaps, on nearer approach, you see bridle and
headstall. This is in early spring, while the frost is coming out of
the ground. As the season advances, the horse emerges, and you are
just getting a fair sight of him when the dust begins and he
disappears again. So say the scoffers, and those who would, but do
not, own any city-lots in that favored vicinity; and to the somewhat
heated mind of the traveller who encounters such things for the first
time, the story does not seem so very much exaggerated. Simple
wayfarers like myself, however, tell no such wicked tales of the
Garden City; but remember only her youth, her grandeur, her spirit,
her hospitality, her weight of cares, her immense achievements, and
her sure promise of future metropolitan splendors.

The vicinity of Chicago is all dotted with beautiful villa-residences.
To drive among them is like turning over a book of architectural
drawings,--so great is their variety, and so marked the taste which
prevails. Many of them are of the fine light-colored s