The car is a modern opium resort, where we sleep and sleep.
I shouldn’t wonder if we all turned into nodding Rip Van Winkles.
To-day I had a sleeping contest with uncle.
I was defeated.
Chicago, 7th
Chicago water is a perfect horror.
Gomenyo! That’s no way to begin, is it?
I never waver in saying that California girls borrow their fairness from their water.
There is no question in my mind why the Chicago women—certain hundreds I saw, if you please—are barren in their complexion.
“O Uncle, how many days have we to tarry here?” I asked, within an hour after we had set foot in this city.