happened during my visit to C------ last summer."

After a little general conversation upon somnambulism, and the stories
connected with it, Hugh took up another paper.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "the next manuscript, which I have
taken at random from the basket, seems to be poetical. It is prefaced
by the following note:--

"'To the Editor,--Sir: I am a Boston man; I do not deny it, but glory
in the title! Some winters ago I was tempted to go west on business,
and found myself snowed up in that great Metropolis of the Lakes,--the
Pride of the West,--the Garden City,--in a word, Chicago! It was
before the great fire; the hotels were crowded; I was in the fifth
story, and, need I say it, I was miserable! In addition to my bodily
sufferings, my ear was tortured by the various pronunciations given to
the city's name. No sooner had I mastered one than I heard another! At
last, driven to desperation, I tried to while away the time in
composing the following 'Ode,' in which my feelings, and the three
different pronunciations are expressed:--

'ODE TO CHICAGO.

The wind is loud, and on the road
The snow lays an embargo,
While, in his room, a Boston man
Sits snow-bound in Chi-CAR-go.

A monkey when he is so sick
That he can't make his paw go,