"Three Years Ago," Said A Traveller In The Coach, "It
Was Thought That This Prairie Could Neither Be Inhabited Nor
Cultivated.
It is so level and so little elevated, that for weeks its surface would
remain covered with water; but
We have found that as it is intersected
with roads, the water either runs off in the ditches of the highways, or
is absorbed into the sand which lies below this surface of dark vegetable
mould, and it is now, as you perceive, beginning to be covered with
habitations."
If you ever go by the stage-coach from Chicago to Peru, on the Illinois
river, do not believe the glozing tongue of the agent who tells you that
you will make the journey in sixteen hours. Double the number, and you
will be nearer the truth. A violent rain fell in the course of the
morning; the coach was heavily loaded, nine passengers within, and three
without, besides the driver; the day was hot, and the horses dragged us
slowly through the black mud, which seemed to possess the consistency and
tenacity of sticking-plaster. We had a dinner of grouse, which here in
certain seasons, are sold for three cents apiece, at a little tavern on
the road; we had passed the long green mound which bears the name of Mount
Joliet, and now, a little before sunset, having travelled somewhat less
than fifty miles, we were about to cross the channel of the Illinois canal
for the second or third time.
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