But no one did ask; it is not worth while where there is so much to
admire. Yet the following is a good statement of the shadow side.

"As to the boasts about the rapid progress here, give me rather the firm
fibre of a slow and knotty growth. I could not help, thinking as much
when I was talking to E. the other day, whom I met on board the boat. He
quarrelled with Boston for its slowness; said it was a bad place for a
young man. He could not make himself felt, could not see the effects of
his exertions as he could here.--To be sure he could not. Here he comes,
like a yankee farmer, with all the knowledge that our hard soil and
laborious cultivation could give him, and what wonder if he is surprised
at the work of his own hands, when he comes to such a soil as this. But
he feeds not so many mouths, though he tills more acres. The plants he
raises have not so exquisite a form, the vegetables so fine a flavor.
His cultivation becomes more negligent, he is not so good a farmer. Is
not this a true view? It strikes me continually. The traces of a man's
hand in a new country are rarely productive of beauty. It is a cutting
down of forest trees to make zigzag fences."

The most picturesque objects to be seen from Chicago on the inland side
were the lines of Hoosier wagons. These rude farmers, the large first
product of the soil, travel leisurely along, sleeping in their wagons by
night, eating only what they bring with them. In the town they observe
the same plan, and trouble no luxurious hotel for board and lodging. In
the town they look like foreign peasantry, and contrast well with the
many Germans, Dutch, and Irish. In the country it is very pretty to see
them prepared to "camp out" at night, their horses taken out of harness,
and they lounging under the trees, enjoying the evening meal.