In time the places of worship are the only tangible remains--witness Stonehenge." Chicago boasts the things she has not and slights the things she has; she talks of everything but the lake and her broad and almost endless boulevards, yet these are her chief glories.
For miles and miles and miles one can travel boulevards upon which no traffic teams are allowed.

From Fort Sheridan, twenty-five miles north, to far below Jackson Park to the south there is an unbroken stretch.

Some day Sheridan Road will extend to Milwaukee, ninety miles from Chicago.
One may reach Jackson Park, the old World's Fair site, by three fine boulevards,--Michigan, broad and straight; Drexel, with its double driveways and banks of flowers, trees, and shrubbery between; Grand, with its three driveways, and so wide one cannot recognize an acquaintance on the far side, cannot even see the policeman frantically motioning to slow down.
It does not matter which route is taken to the Park, the good roads end there.

We missed our way, and went eighteen miles to Hammond, over miles of poor pavement and unfinished roads.

That was a pull which tried nerves and temper,--to find at the end there was another route which involved but a short distance of poor going.