I lecture in Cleveland to-night, and am still in “the neighborhood of Chicago.”
[3] Very strange, that church with its stalls, galleries, and boxes—a perfect theater. From the platform it was interesting to watch the immense throng, packing the place from floor to ceiling, in front, on the sides, behind, everywhere.
CHAPTER XXVII.
The Monotony of Traveling in the States—“Manon Lescaut” in America.
In the train from Cleveland to Albany, February 27.
Am getting tired and ill. I am not bed-ridden, but am fairly well rid of a bed. I have lately spent as many nights in railway cars as in hotel beds.