I Had Some Little Personal Feeling In Visiting Cincinnati, Because
My Mother Had Lived There For Some Time, And Had There Been
Concerned In A Commercial Enterprise, By Which No One, I Believe,
Made Any Great Sum Of Money.
Between thirty and forty years ago she
built a bazaar in Cincinnati, which, I was assured by the present
owner of the house, was at the time of its erection considered to be
the great building of the town.
It has been sadly eclipsed now, and
by no means rears its head proudly among the great blocks around it.
It had become a "Physio-medical Institute" when I was there, and was
under the dominion of a quack doctor on one side, and of a college
of rights of women female medical professors on the other. "I
believe, sir, no man or woman ever yet made a dollar in that
building; and as for rent, I don't even expect it." Such was the
account given of the unfortunate bazaar by the present proprietor.
Cincinnati has long been known as a great town - conspicuous among
all towns for the number of hogs which are there killed, salted, and
packed. It is the great hog metropolis of the Western States; but
Cincinnati has not grown with the rapidity of other towns. It has
now 170,000 inhabitants, but then it got an early start. St. Louis,
which is west of it again near the confluence of the Missouri and
Mississippi, has gone ahead of it.
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