CHAPTER IV.

THE STATES-CHICAGO-MINNESOTA.

THIS morning (Wednesday), the 7th of June, I left my friends and Canada for the States, which I entered at Detroit, the capital of Michigan, and lying on the west side of the channel which connects the two lakes of Erie and. Huron, at a distance of 225 miles from Nicaragua Station. I had at first thought of going through Canada direct, by the Canadian Pacific Line to British Columbia and Vancouver's Island, but, on reflection, preferred seeing more of life and movement in my journey than this course could have shown me, and therefore took my course towards the west by Chicago. Moreover, I was to see the Yellow Stone Park on my way, and the Northern Pacific Railway was the proper direction to take for that purpose.

On arriving at the station, and arranging my passage by showing my Cook's ticket book, I remarked that it was nearly nine o'clock, and I supposed the train would soon be there.

"Yes," replied the booking-clerk, "the train will be to time; but it is only eight by railway time."

"Because you begin 'Central Time' here."

I then came to know that, in conducting traffic over their several thousand miles directly westward, the Companies had been obliged to divide their time into four different spaces of fifteen degrees each, each of these spaces containing one arbitrary hour: Eastern Time, by which I had been travelling; Central Time, into which I was about to enter; Mountain Time, again, beyond; and Pacific Time, again, beyond that—these several spaces being separately counted as they stand at five, six, seven, and eight hours behind Greenwich time. Such is the ingenious mode adopted to meet the difficulty of running to and fro with time and steam from east to west, and west to east, across an immense territory—a difficulty which we in England have never been called upon to meet. Having calculated my hours on the line by marking the hour we were advertised to arrive, I thus had to content myself to submitting to one hour more upon the road, being bound to count from eight o'clock instead of nine. Nor was this a very agreeable reflection, for the day was about to be very hot, and I had been forewarned that it would be dusty too.

On getting into the car, I made these observations about heat and dust half to myself, and immediately heard two words behind me which sounded very like "You bet." Not quite able to attach a direct meaning to such a phrase, I opened the usual form of interrogation as to whether I had been spoken to.

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"Oh yes! you spoke of heat and dust, and I said. 'You bet,' for we'll have both pretty much, I guess."

So the meaning was that I might lay odds on my prognostication, and this I soon found to be a very frequent mode of concurrence with any observation.

"You bet" turned out to be (as many others did) a very pleasant travelling-companion, and I will here at once remark that, through all the thousands of miles that I eventually travelled over in the States, I never met with anything but great civility and good feeling, and, indeed, in some cases with attention and courtesy. These last offerings might perhaps have made me (as it might others) begin to think there was something more than usually engaging in my own manners; but one fine day a certain observation led me to suspect the colour, or non-colour, of my hair might possibly have something to do with it; and had I propounded this misgiving to some one like my first companion, it is not altogether unlikely he might have replied, "You bet." For on the occasion I refer to, the passenger who had showed me almost marked attention as regards stations, seats, and other information, at last, benevolently gazing at me in the face, politely said, "Time has been growing rather familiar with you, sir, of late?" "That inexorable pursuer," I replied, "intrudes upon us all. But never mind; so long as I am young enough to move about, I am content to be old enough to receive benevolent attention."

We had come by the Michigan Central line, and

the train was politely stopped at the Falls, for a short view. A two hundred and twenty-five mile course took us to Detroit, where we passed over the water with the whole train, divided into two parts, side by side, on an immense steam ferry-boat; and where the custom-house officers, noting at once that I was what I professed to be, passed me through with civility. Hence we travelled over another 311 miles, making 536 in all from Niagara Falls Station to Chicago. This long journey gave me my first introduction to the system of railway travelling in the States. It had been the same in Canada. The long car carriages, with side seats and a passage down the middle, are already well known in England, though used among us only as what are called "Pullman or sleeping-cars. In the States, we also know, there are only these carriages in use. At each end there is a platform, and thus any passenger, so inclined, may walk through the carriages from end to end of the train. At each end there are also "toilet " arrangements. Then comes the feeding question, and this is managed by breakfast, dinner, or supper cars being put on at and for so many hours, as may be convenient. The penalty of early dinners and their inevitable consequences of suffering afternoons (particularly in hot weather) must be endured; and at the usual hours of nine, twelve, and six, the conductor walks through with a warning voice to declare that the given meal is ready. There are always two "calls" for every meal, with an interval of one hour

between each. Sometimes the voice is quick, "Dinner! dinner! dinner!" and sometimes it is "Din-ner's rea-dy!" in a voice that threatens loss of it if you don't get up and go-something like "Mis-sus is a-coming!" among servants.

I have now sufficient experience of day and night travelling in the States to say-for myself, at all events-that it would be impossible to bear it all over their long distances unless you could thus move about, and stand now and then on the platform for a change, or sit down, as so many do, in the small end compartment and smoke for a while. These platforms, also, give great facilities for getting off or on to a train at stopping or starting-time, for they are very broad, though now and then the steps are rather high. But it must not be supposed that all is comfortable. In the first place, each side is made for two, without division; in the next, the back of the seats is always too low for real rest, which in the sleeping-cars (of which anon, when I have proved them) is especially essential. Again, there is a constant to and fro in the centre passage, and the tyrannical habit of banging the doors at every entrance and exit; and this constant passing up and down of all sorts sometimes becomes intolerable, particularly when (as seems almost always to be the case) the conductors are in a hurry. I could wish, also, that the fastenings of the window were not quite such ingenious puzzles, and that when these are pushed up the better to view any object, the bottom of the frame did not fix itself so precisely in the sight-line.