* * * * *

NOTES FROM CHICAGO.

The Garden City seems to be in a quiescent state at present. There is no
startling divorce case on the _topis_, and the main portion of the Court
House has not yet fallen in, and Mr. H.'s wife has not recently
surprised him in any well-matured plan for putting a _quietus_ upon her
existence. Domestic felicity is unusually prevalent. The scarlet-fever
and measles have prevailed to a somewhat alarming extent; but the most
contagious of all has been the _French_ fever. This malady seems to have
spread amongst all classes; the fashionable and the unfashionable, the
strong-minded and the frivolous. French teachers swarm like bees, here,
there, and every where, and all speaking the purest Parisian French;
even Mons. L'HARMONIQUE, who comes from that wee little town in Canada,
where the Canucks "most do congregate." But he says "the Americans do
love so much humbug," that he gives them their fill of that article.

We have had French parties, French plays, French lectures. We read
French, speak French, sing French, and look French; and, if you are so
barbarously ignorant as not to understand that language, why, you might
just as well retire for an old fossil or petrifaction. You're obsolete,
that's all; as much behind the times as RIP VAN WINKLE himself, after
his memorable sleep. English is out of date here--a relic of the Dark
Ages. Fashionable ladies return from Paris, bringing with them
accomplished _bonnes_, and every one is prohibited from speaking a word
of English to the children; but, in spite of every precaution, the
vulgar little creatures will drop the musical foreign tongue, and speak
their own native language. They are christened ADELE, MARIE, or CLAIRE;
the SUSANS, MARYS, and ELLENS having ceased to exist.