Here, in Chicago, gallantry and candour go hand in hand. A legend of the
envious East represents that a Chicago young man travelling in Louisiana
wrote to his sweetheart: "DEAR MAMIE,--I have shot an alligator. When I
have shot another, I will send you a pair of slippers." The implication
is, to the best of my knowledge and belief, a base and baseless
calumny. New York itself does not present a higher average of female
beauty than Chicago, and that is saying a great deal. But I must not
enlarge on this fascinating topic. A Judgment of Paris is always a
delicate business, and I am in nowise called upon to make the invidious
award. Were I compelled to undertake it, I could only distribute the
apple, and my homage, in equal shares to the goddesses of the East, the
South, and the Middle West.

When I was in Chicago in '77, it was the metropolis of the West, without
qualification. Now it is merely the frontier city of the Middle West.
From the standpoint of Omaha and Denver, it seems to fill the Eastern
horizon, and shut out the further view. Many stories are told to show
how absolutely and instinctively your true Westerner ignores the Eastern
States and cities. Here is one of the most characteristic. A little girl
came into the smoking car of a train somewhere in Kansas or Nebraska,
and stood beside her father, who was in conversation with another man.
The father put his arm round her and said to his companion, "She's been
a great traveller, this little girl of mine. She's only ten years old,
and she's been all over the United States."

"You don't say!" replied the other; "all over the United States?"

"Yes, sir; all over the United States," said the proud father; and then
added, as though the detail was scarcely worth mentioning, "except east