How I do love New York! It is not that it possesses a single building that I really care for; it is because it contains scores and scores of delightful people, brilliant, affable, hospitable, warm-hearted friends, who were kind enough to welcome me when I returned from a tour, and in whose company I could break up the cobwebs that had had time to form in the corners of my mouth.

The history of Chicago can be written in a few lines. So can the history of the whole of America.

A Frenchman in America — Part 90

In about 1830 a man called Benjamin Harris, with his family, moved to Chicago, or Fort Dearborn, as it was then called. Not more than half a dozen whites, all of whom were Indian traders, had preceded them. In 1832 they had a child, the first white female born in Chicago--now married, called Mrs. S. A. Holmes, and the mother of fourteen children. In 1871 Chicago had over 100,000 inhabitants, and was burned to the ground. To-day Chicago has over 1,200,000 inhabitants, and in ten years' time will have two millions.

A Frenchman in America — Part 90

The activity in Chicago is perfectly amazing. And I don't mean commercial activity only. Compare the following statistics: In the great reading rooms of the British Museum, there was an average of 620 readers daily during the year 1888. In the reading-room of the Chicago Public Library, there was an average of 1569 each day in the same year. Considering that the population of London is nearly five times that of Chicago, it shows that the reading public is ten times more numerous in Chicago than in London.

A Frenchman in America — Part 90

It is a never failing source of amusement to watch the ways of public servants in this country.

I went to pay a visit to a public museum this afternoon.

In Europe, the keepers, that is to say, the servants of the public, have cautions posted in the museums, in which "the public are requested not to touch." In France, they are "begged," which is perhaps a more suitable expression, as the museums, after all, belong to the public.

In America, the notice is "Hands off!" This is short and to the point. The servants of the public allow you to enter the museums, charge you twenty-five cents, and warn you to behave well. "Hands off" struck me as rather off-handed.

I really admire the independence of all the servants in this country. You may give them a tip, you will not run the risk of making them servile or even polite.