It Was A Hot August Morning As The Steamer Wisconsin, An Unwieldy Bulk,
Dipping And Bobbing Upon The Small Waves, And Trembling At Every Stroke Of
The Engine, Swept Out Into The Lake.
The southwest wind during the warmer
portion of the summer months is a sort of Sirocco in Illinois.
It blows
with considerable strength, but passing over an immense extent of heated
plains it brings no coolness. It was such an air that accompanied us on
our way north from Chicago; and as the passengers huddled into the shady
places outside of the state-rooms on the upper deck, I thought of the
flocks of quails I had seen gasping in the shadow of the rail-fences on
the prairies.
People here expose themselves to a draught of air with much less scruple
than they do in the Atlantic states. "We do not take cold by it," they
said to me, when I saw them sitting in a current of wind, after perspiring
freely. If they do not take cold, it is odds but they take something else,
a fever perhaps, or what is called a bilious attack. The vicissitudes of
climate at Chicago and its neighborhood are more sudden and extreme than
with us, but the inhabitants say that they are not often the cause of
catarrhs, as in the Atlantic states. Whatever may be the cause, I have met
with no person since I came to the West, who appeared to have a catarrh.
From this region perhaps will hereafter proceed singers with the clearest
pipes.
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