There is a good deal of fine pulpit oratory to be heard every Sabbath in Chicago; and the people of the surrounding country know it. It is no uncommon thing for the Saturday night incoming trains to be crowded with young men, some of them from homes one hundred miles away, who are yet regular attendants at the religious services of the city. Having enjoyed these to the full, the Sunday evening sleeping cars are again crowded with the same youthful army, very sleepy, but very happy, making the return trip. Chicago is justly proud of her streets. About eighty feet wide, and meeting at right angles, they present a beautiful object lesson to some of her elder Eastern sisters. The city is said to contain thirteen million dollars' worth of hotel property. Perhaps no structure for which any part of this immense sum has been expended is more beautiful and remarkable than the Palmer House. This building is said to contain more bricks than any two hotels on the Continent, and more iron than most of them put together. The flooring contains ninety thousand square feet of marble tiling laid in massive beds of cement. The beams are laid in beds of cement also. The immense carriage court is entered by three _porte cochéres_. There are said to be one hundred miles of electric bell wires in the building. The magnificent office is twenty-four feet in height. It is wainscoted with Italian marble, studded with panels of remarkably rich rose brocatelle marble, and with many natural mosaics of rare and curious beauty. The wainscoting of the counter is made of the same exquisite material. The grand staircase is made of the same. Mr. C. M. Palmer travelled extensively for some time, before building, throughout Europe, making an especial study of continental hotels, with a determination to surpass the excellences of them all in his beloved Chicago. Mr. Palmer's spirit seems to be characteristic of all true Chicagoans. To have their city excel, to have it something more extensive, more impressive, more famous, grander, nobler than any other place which the sun shines on, this is their hearts' desire. Some one said to a great man: "What paramount word of advice would you give to young men?" The answer came, "Aspire." "What would your next advice be?" "Aspire." "But what then?" "Aspire." Chicago believes in that advice. She has always believed in it. Nay, more, she has lived it. CHAPTER XX. CHICAGO TO DAVENPORT. One hundred and Twenty-sixth Day. _Jewell House_, MICHIGAN CITY, INDIANA, _September 14, 1876_. In the morning I settled with Darby, and in the afternoon he returned to Decatur. At nightfall here, the excitement which had been rising during the day reached its climax when the Michigan City Democrats repaired to the New Albany depot to hold a mass meeting.