File:Ocean to ocean on horseback; being the story of a tour in the saddle from the Atlantic to the Pacific; with especial reference to the early history and development of cities and towns along the route; (14767778891).jpg

Identifier: oceantooceanonho01glaz (find matches)
Title: Ocean to ocean on horseback; being the story of a tour in the saddle from the Atlantic to the Pacific; with especial reference to the early history and development of cities and towns along the route; and regions traversed beyond the Mississippi ..
Year: 1896 (1890s)
Authors: Glazier, Willard W., 1841-1905
Subjects:
Publisher: Philadelphia, Hubbard publishing company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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whom I left with the kindliest of feeling. Before leaving, Mr. Conklin suggested that I ridealong the tow-path of the IMichigan Canal from Jolietto Chanahou, and I followed his advice, having din-ner at the latter place. It happened that the inn-keeper was well supplied with sweet cider and I helpedhim to dispose of it by drinking the contents of sixwell-filled glasses. Beyond Chanahon, on the IllinoisKiver, I borrowed a hook and line of a farmer whowas fishing and caught twenty-three perch in half anhour. At four oclock I reached the summit of a hill onthe border of a prairie from which I coukl look offfor fifteen or tw^enty miles over a fertile countrythrough which two silver streams wound to unite justbelow—the Kankakee here paying tribute to the Illi-nois. The atmosphere was perfect—clear and pure;the trees were tinged red and yellow with the firstfrosts, and to all this was added the glory of the sun-set which I lingered to admire before turning awayfrom so charming a scene.
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CHICAGO TO DAVENPORT. 337 (Due C)un^vc^ auii SI)ivtg--scconii ©an. Clifton House,Ottawa, Illinois, Sij)tember 2\centieth. I rode out of Morris in the morning just as the pub-lic school bells were ringing nine oclock. My journeynow lay along the north bank of the Illinois River,and took me through some of the finest cornfields Ihad ever seen. Acres and acres, miles and milesstretched in all directions as far as the eye could reachwhenever the elevation of the road was high enoughabove this waving sea of grain to allow me to lookabout me. Otherwise I passed through it completelyshut in, except as I could look ahead and behindand see the avenue of giant stalks. My horse, six-teen hands high, did not elevate me sufficiently toenable me, sitting in the saddle, to look over thecorn tops and they still towered above me like smalltrees. Those who are privileged to see this agriculturalwonder must, however, associate it with that othersource of pride among Illinois farmers—the hogs ^—for

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