"We have done something very like it already," he replied.
And next morning he took me to see the famous pig-killing and pork-packing premises of Philip Armour and Co.
Picture to yourself a series of rooms connecting. In the first, 5,000 pigs a day are killed; in the second, they are scraped as they come out of a cauldron of scalding water; in the third, the heads are cut off; and so on, and so on. The process is somewhat sickening, and I will not enter into any more details. At the end of the establishment the poor pigs are presented to you under the forms of bacon, sausage, galantine, etc. The various processes take place with all the rapidity of conjuring.
What will they not invent in Chicago? That which looks like a joke to-day may be a reality next week; and I shall not be surprised, next time I go to Chicago, to find that the talking power of women has been utilized as a motor for sewing machines by connecting the chin with the wheel.
How leave Chicago without mentioning the adieux that reached me at my hotel during the hour before I left for Canada?
Ding-rrrring, goes the telephone bell.
"Hello!"
"Hello!"
"Good-bye; good luck!"
"Hello!"