ible you never heard of it?"

"Oh, yes, I remember now. It was formally opened by the President."

He did remember it; he remembered having edited telegraph for a
newspaper on the night when Patti's voice was first heard in this
great home of music.

"Biggest theater in the world," said Witherspoon.

"Bigger than La Scala of Milan?" Henry asked.

"Beats anything in the world, and I remember when the ground could
have been bought for--see that lot over there?" he broke off,
pointing. "I bought that once for eighty dollars a foot and sold it
for a hundred."

"Pretty good sale! wasn't it?" Henry innocently asked.

"Good sale! What do you suppose it's worth now!"

"I have no idea."

"Three thousand a foot if it's worth a penny. There never was anything
like it since the world began. I'm not what you might call an
old-timer, but I've seen some wonderful changes here. Now, this land
right here--fifteen hundred a foot; could have bought it not so very
long ago for fifty. I tell you the world never saw anything like it.
Why, just think of it; there are men now living who could have bought
the best corner in this city for a mere song. There's no other town
like this. Look at the buildings. When a man has lived here a while he
can't live in any other town--any other town is too slow for him--and
yet I heard an old man say that he could have got all the land he
wanted here for a yoke of oxen."

"But he hadn't the oxen, eh?"

"Of coarse he had," Witherspoon replied, "but who wanted to exchange
useful oxen for a useless mud-hole? Beats anything in this world."

Henry looked at him in astonishment. His tongue, which at first had
seemed to be so tight with silence, was now so loose with talk. He had
dropped no hint of his own importance; he had made not the slightest
allusion to the energy and ability that had been required to build his
mammoth institution. His impressive dignity was set aside; he was
blowing his town's horn.

The carriage turned into Prairie Avenue. "Look at all this,"
Witherspoon continued, waving his hand. "I remember when it didn't
deserve the name of a street. Look at that row of houses. Built by a
man that used to drive a team. There's a beauty going up. Did you ever
see anything like it?"

"I can well say that I never have," Henry answered.

"I should think not," said Witherspoon, and pointing to the
magnificent home of some obscure man, he added: "I remember when an
old shed stood there. Ju