"Soon after the sale of lots in Chicago, in 1833, I think, Robert Kinzie, on his way to Detroit, stopped at Marsh's trading post near Coldwater. There happened to be several of us present and Bob began to boast about Chicago and what a great city it would become. 'Why,' said he, 'I bought some of the best lots in Chicago for twenty dollars apiece, and those lots are worth sixty dollars apiece to-day!' It seemed to us utterly absurd that a lot should be worth sixty dollars, when two hundred dollars would buy one hundred and sixty acres of the best quality. Not a single person in the crowd believed Bob's yarn." [Illustration THE ART INSTITUTE, CHICAGO.] As an example of the spirit which animated these old pioneers who came in the early days to the great city that was to be, the story of one man furnishes an interesting illustration. The writer had it from the lips of the man himself, who recently died at the ripe age of eighty-two. "I had heard of the West," he said, "in the little hamlet in New England where I was born. My ambition was fired, and I determined at all hazards to seek my fortune there. I soon found myself in Buffalo with seven dollars in my pocket, and with this I had to pay my transportation to the young city in the West. After considerable 'higgling' with the captain of a schooner I arranged for deck passage at a cost of three dollars. Part of my money was then expended to get some cotton cloth. This I sewed up in the shape of a bag, and into it I put some shavings to soften the hard planks of the deck of the ship at night. The balance of the money went for boiled ham, cheese, and bread. "I was twenty years old, had been a farm boy, and had attained no special knowledge of any manual trade. I arrived in Chicago and found it a dismal, swampy place, but with every appearance of thrift and activity. My money was exhausted, and work was indispensable. Going along the one important street or road I found a man building a rather pretentious boarding house. He asked me if I 'came off that ship in the harbor,' and when I answered 'yes,' he inquired whether there were any carpenters on board. I told him there was none excepting myself. He wanted to know if I could 'lay out work' so that his men could saw and hammer, which was all they could do. It seemed to me that I could 'lay out work' better than anything else, and engaged myself to him at four dollars a day. Two days satisfied my new boss that my technical knowledge was deficient, and he paid me off. I soon afterwards found work in a harness shop, and by assiduity and attention I acquired a knowledge of that business. Thus I got my start."