CHAPTER XXXII
COLORADO SPRINGS
In a certain city that I visited upon my travels, I met one night at dinner, one of those tall, pink-cheeked, slim-legged young polo-playing Englishmen, who proceeded to tell me in his positive, British way, exactly what the United States amounted to. He said New York was ripping. He said San Francisco was ripping. He said American girls were ripping.
"But," said he, "there are just two really civilized places between your Atlantic and Pacific coasts."
The idea entertained me. I asked which places he meant.
"Chicago," he said, "and Colorado Springs."
"But Colorado Springs is a little bit of a place, isn't it?" I asked him.
"About thirty thousand."