Титан

The New City

           Whatacity!Presentlyabranchofthefilthy,arrogant,self-sufficientlittleChicagoRivercameintoview,withitsmassofsputteringtugs,itsblack,oilywater,itstall,red,brown,andgreengrain-elevators,itsimmenseblackcoal-pocketsandyellowish-brownlumber-yards.

           Herewaslife;hesawitataflash.Herewasaseethingcityinthemaking.Therewassomethingdynamicintheveryairwhichappealedtohisfancy.Howdifferent,forsomereason,fromPhiladelphia!Thatwasastirringcity,too.Hehadthoughtitwonderfulatonetime,quiteaworld;butthisthing,whileobviouslyinfinitelyworse,wasbetter.Itwasmoreyouthful,morehopeful.Inaflareofmorningsunlightpouringbetweentwocoal-pockets,andbecausethetrainhadstoppedtoletabridgeswingandhalfadozengreatgrainandlumberboatsgobyahalf-dozenineitherdirectionhesawagroupofIrishstevedoresidlingonthebankofalumber-yardwhosewallskirtedthewater.Healthymentheywere,inblueorredshirt-sleeves,stoutstrapsabouttheirwaists,shortpipesintheirmouths,fine,hardy,nutty-brownspecimensofhumanity.Whyweretheysoappealing,heaskedhimself.Thisraw,dirtytownseemednaturallytocomposeitselfintostirringartisticpictures.Why,itfairlysang!Theworldwasyounghere.Lifewasdoingsomethingnew.PerhapshehadbetternotgoontotheNorthwestatall;hewoulddecidethatquestionlater.

           InthemeantimehehadlettersofintroductiontodistinguishedChicagoans,andthesehewouldpresent

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