"Our excellent country," said Mr. Milbrey, "is perhaps not yet what it
will be; there is undeniably a most distressing rawness where we might
expect finish. Now in Chicago," he continued in a tone suitably hushed
for the relation of occult phenomena, "we dined with a person who
served champagne with the oysters, soup, fish, and _entree_, and for
the remainder of the dinner--you may credit me or not--he proffered a
claret of 1875--. I need hardly remind you, the most delicate vintage
of the latter half of the century--and it was served _frappe_." There
was genuine emotion in the speaker's voice.

"And papa nearly swooned when our host put cracked ice and two lumps of
sugar into his own glass--"

"_Avice, dear!_" remonstrated the father in a tone implying that some
things positively must not be mentioned at table.

"Well, you shouldn't expect too much of those self-made men in
Chicago," said Shepler.

"If they'd only make themselves as well as they make their sausages and
things," sighed Mr. Milbrey.

"And the self-made man _will_ talk shop," suggested Oldaker. "He thinks
you're dying to hear how he made the first thousand of himself."

"Still, those Chicago chaps learn quickly enough when they settle in
New York," ventured one of the young men.

"I knew a Chicago chap who lived East two years and went back not a