I looked in the direction indicated, and beheld some blocks of granite in
course of erection into a pedestal. I confess to having been entirely
ignorant at the time as to what claim Stephen B. Douglas may have had to
this public recognition of his worth, but the tone of my informant's
voice was sufficient to warn me that everybody knew Stephen B. Douglas,
and that ignorance of his career might prove hurtful to the feelings of
my new acquaintance, so I carefully refrained from showing by word or
look the drawback under which I laboured. There was with me, however, a
travelling companion who, to an ignorance of Stephen B. D. fully equal to
mine own, added a truly British indignation that monumental honours
should be bestowed upon one whose fame was still faint across the
Atlantic. Looking partly at the monument, partly at our American
informant, and partly at me, he hastily ejaculated, "Who the devil was
Stephen B. Douglas?"

Alas! the murder was out, and out in its most aggravating form. I hastily
attempted a rescue. "Not know who Stephen B. Douglas was?" I exclaimed,
in a tone of mingled reproof and surprise. "Is it possible you don't know
who Stephen B. Douglas was?"

Nothing cowed by the assumption of knowledge implied by my question, my
fellow-traveller was not to be done. "All deuced fine," he went on, "I'll
bet you a fiver you don't know who he was either!"

I kicked at him under the seat of the carriage, but it was of no use, he
persisted in his reckless offers of "laying fivers," and our united
ignorance stood fatally revealed.

Round the city of Chicago stretches upon three sides a vast level