Harvey Campbell.
I am so glad it has come time to write about Minneapolis, because I went there myself only a year ago. I do think it is the loveliest place I was ever in. It seems more like a great big beautiful town than a city. The houses are not crowded together in great ugly-looking brick rows, all just alike, as they are in Philadelphia, and on some streets in New York; but almost all of them have lovely grounds, and trees, and flowers, and pretty lawns. Oh! I liked it all so much. We had a picnic out at the Falls of Minnehaha, the prettiest place I ever saw in my life. There is a magnificent park out there of more than a hundred acres, and the drive all the way through the city to the park is perfectly beautiful. Then of course the falls themselves are just too lovely! We had Mr. Dickson the elocutionist with us, and after lunch he recited parts of Longfellow’s poem about “Minnehaha, Laughing Water.” I had never read “Hiawatha” then, but I have since, and I know several pages of it by heart. But you cannot think how lovely it was to have Mr. Dickson recite it right at the falls. We took a great many lovely drives while we were in the city. We stopped at West Hotel, which is one of the finest in the United States, or for that matter in the world. It can accommodate twelve hundred guests, and it seemed as though there must be that number in the house while we were there. When we met in the great dining-room it seemed queer to think that there were more people there than can be found in the village where I live. Still I like our little village in the summer, and would not exchange it for a city. I would like to describe West Hotel, but I cannot, except to say that the furniture was grand, and everything was elegant. We rode past Senator Washburn’s house a great many times. It is out on Twenty-second Street and Third Avenue, and has ten acres of the most charming grounds, so that it is just the same to him as living in the country. The house is built of a kind of stone which is called kasota, and is very beautiful. I did not mean to make my letter so long, but there is a great deal to tell.
Alice Washburne Mills.
I have an aunt who is very fond of visiting churches. When she goes to a new place, if it is only a village, she wants to see all the churches and know about them. When she was in Minneapolis first, years ago, it was a little bit of a place, and my aunt is an old lady, and does not read the newspapers much, and did not realize that Minneapolis had grown a great deal. She went there last spring to visit a nephew. She reached there in the night, and was taken in a carriage to her nephew’s house, and did not realize the changes at all. The next morning at breakfast, when her nephew asked her what she would like to see in the city, she said she would like to visit the different churches if she could, and that perhaps as the day was pleasant they could go that morning.
CITY HALL AND COURT SQUARE.
“Very well,” said her nephew; “to which ones shall we go?”
“Oh! to all of them,” answered my aunt; “we can take a few minutes for each and see them all this forenoon, can we not?”