British -- United States -- Fiction; Epistolary fiction; Married women -- Fiction; Voyages and travels -- Fiction
We left about twelve, after being interviewed by several reporters in
the hall of the hotel. These halls are apparently meeting places for
countless men, simply crammed like one could have imagined a portico in
the Roman days,--not people necessarily staying there, but herds of
others from outside. The type gets thicker as one leaves New York. It
reminds one of a funny man I once saw in the pantomime who put on about
six suits, one after another, growing gradually larger, though no
taller or fatter--just thick. All these in the hall were meaty, not one
with that lean look of the pictures of "Uncle Sam," but more like our
"John Bull," only not portly and complacent as he is, but just thick
all over, at about the three coat stage; thick noses, thick hair, thick
arms, thick legs, and nearly invariably clean-shaven and keen looking.
The Senator said they were the ordinary business people and might any
of them rise to be President of the Republic. We are perfectly overcome
with admiration and respect for their enormous advancing and adaptive
power, because just to look at we should not call these of the
Senator's class. But think what brains they must have, and what
vitality; and those things matter a great deal more than looks to a
country.
The Senator said the type would culminate in Chicago, and gradually get
finer again out in the far West. And he seemed right, from the
impression we got of the crowd in this hotel. It was rather like a
Christmas nightmare, when everyone had turned into a plum pudding, or
those gingerbread men the old woman by the Wavebeach pier used to sell.
Do you remember, Mamma? Perfectly square and solid. They are ahead of
Detroit, and at the six coat stage here. Probably all as good as gold,
and kind and nice and full of virtues; but for strangers who don't know
all these things, just to look at, they make one think one is dreaming.
Do you suppose it is, if they have to be so much among pork and meat
generally, perhaps that makes them solid? We did not know a soul to
speak to, nor did the Senator either, though he said he was acquainted
with many nice people in Chicago; so perhaps they were just travellers
like us after all, and we have no right to judge of a place by them.
We supped--we had arrived very late--and watched the world in from the
theatres. We don't know of what class they were, or of what society,
only they were not the least like New York. The women were, some of
them, very wonderfully dressed, though not that exquisite Paris look of
the New Yorkers, and they had larger hats and brighter colours; and
numbers of them were what the Senator calls "homely." We were very
silent,--naturally, we did not like to say our thoughts aloud to the
Senator, an American; but he spoke of it to us himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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