ch the warm hearts of its
people had kindled still burning in my breast, and the many memories of
its fragrance and sunlight, and beauty, forever embalmed and enshrined in
my heart, I crossed in one of the great gulf steamers to Mobile, the home
of the celebrated Madame Le Verte; but, as her continued travels call her
so often away from the city in which she so gracefully and so heartfully
dispensed the hospitalities of home-life, and opened wide her doors to the
stranger, I was not privileged to meet her; nor can I note many of the
manifold celebrities of the city. I can only say I found it as beautiful
as a dream; its skies of sweet Italian softness; its waters clear and
pure as "Pyerian Springs;" its winds gentle as the whisper of an Angel;
its flowers gorgeous in tint and redolent with fragrance; the spirits of
its people attuned to harmony with their beautiful surroundings, and
overflowing with generous sentiment.

Without the slightest intimation upon my own part, I was presented with
passes over the Mobile and Ohio Railway, by which I went to Cairo, and
thence by the magnet, which so often drew my spirit toward the pole to
Chicago.

After a brief respite and rest I went to Minnesota, in whose life-giving
climate I spent the summer. Passing over the oft-told tale of financial
success, I must address myself to those who--

"Love the haunts of nature,
Love the sunshine of the meadow,
Love the shadow of the forest,
Love the wind among the branches
And the rushing of great rivers
Through their palisades and pine trees;
And the thunder of the mountains,
Whose innumerable echoes
Flap like eagles in their eyries."

To these I must revert to the many beauteous haunts and hidden retreats
of nature, whose varied phases of quiet sweetness and sublime grandeur are
heightened and intensified by the charm of legend and of song.

I visited the falls of "Minne-ha-ha," and could almost fancy the silvery
song and light laughter of the Indian girl in the happy purling music of
the waterfall, and, as it glided off into the gentler murmur of the
stream, below, I could imagine the still sadder song of the spirit
speeding to rest in

"The Islands of the Blessed,
To the Land of the Hereafter."

Minneapolis and St. Paul were visited, but they are all too celebrated to
need note.

Back again to the "Garden City," and to the one who had so patiently
waited for the sunshine of success