CHAPTER VII.
Notes on the great American Cities.—New York.—Boston.—A Visit to Oliver Wendell Holmes.—Washington.—Mount Vernon.—Philadelphia.—Chicago.—Rivalry between these Cities.—Jokes they indulge in at each other's Expense.
he large cities do not constitute the real America. To gain a correct idea of the country, one must go and see those hundreds, nay thousands, of flourishing little towns which spring up day by day on that immense continent.
I went to America too late, and left it too early, to be able to enjoy and admire its natural beauties. The trees were shorn of their magnificent foliage, the Indian summer was just over, and forest and prairie were alike bare and brown. No matter: I dread descriptions of scenery, and I could not have done justice to the subject. Men interest me more than rivers, rocks, and trees. I cannot describe Nature, and it is human nature that attracts me most.
Great cities surely have their interest, especially those of the United States, which, with the exception of New York, have each their own particular characteristics.
The city of New York is built upon an island about nine miles long, half a mile broad at the south, and about two and a half broad at the north. This island has the form of a tongue.
The city looks like a slice of honeycomb on the map: twelve great arteries run from north to south, crossed at right angles by over a hundred streets forming an immense number of "blocks," as they are called.