This letter is written on two different stationaries, one marked Boston and Chicago Special Wagner Vestibule Train via Boston & Albany, NY Central and Lake Shore. The second marked J. S. Swain, Worchester, Mass., dated Sep 24, 1893, and addressed to Mip? Edith Peck, Norfolk, Connecticut.

Sunday Sept 24, 1893.

"log book" Vol 1

Papa and I had a very nice journey, surprisingly free from dust: Our train was the regulation palatial vistibule. It is great to be able to pass from end to end all under shelter, pausing at queer unheard of stations to open odd little plate glass doors and step out, with a strange feeling of being so utterly lost. We had with us a barber shop-bath-room-library-smoker-dining car-sleepers. The barber cheerfully mentioned his "waste basket- to throw in ears & noses cut off by the sudden jerks of the train." Truth to tell ? we rode as easy as a spring carriage and felt just as rested as in our homes: and by my slyly secreted lunch menu with articles crossed you can see that I worried along well enough. We lost time, and Sat. morn everybody was ravenous. At Toledo we stopped for a dinning car, and everyone was lined up waiting for it. Pa & I ran outside and had a giddy foot race with a mob of "starring" men & women. We won and secured a good place. Met an old friend from Wochester Academy - "bout my age - rich as need ? to my surprise he was married - a cute - pretty little girl. He merely travels from place to place - Europe - etc. etc. Curiously, he stops 1 doors from me: yet this city is so immense that though we are apparently in its midst, we are miles out: for it reaches out 20 miles, with magnificent boulevards, straight as a string, wide and ending in dim distance. Superb buildings, parks, etc. are here. We are in a fine private residence, close by the park, nice room - bath-room next.

I confess as I rode into Chicago I experienced for the first time in my life a ? understanding of what it is to have one's "tongue cleave to the roof of his mouth-" not from fear, nor yet have I been especially enthusiastic about going - but when, far away, I saw the Ferris Wheel ponderously revolving - and the dim white buildings, for an instant I felt "queer." We went last night, and truly, ? ? I blessed with a power of describing the beautiful as I felt it - I could only feebly imitate some of the gifted pens that have exalted the "Fair." I shall certainly not try to do so: but surely when, just as day was dying we rose slowly & passed with a mighty swing up and out over it all in the "Wheel" and saw the vast throng below us, first clearly, then confusedly and last as a black run of life - and as later on night came on and the unsurpassed and mighty buildings of the White City gleamed under myriads of electric lights of every color and power - while search lights as high as 2.000.000 power sent huge bars of light over the sky - with every dream of lace like elaboration brought out on structures on which the genius of the world has been exhausted, and under vast statues that seemed to breath the keen night air and watch the gay boats shoot across the dark lake and under the arches. Truly it seemed that high above - where the full moon hung in a cloudless sky, the angels of Heaven must creep to the walls and look down on a scene like this: and irresistibly comes the thought - 2000 years has been the alloted time for a vast change in the Worlds History: so marked, so significant that many believe the end of the World to be near at hand, in this 1993 year from Christ's death ? as 2000 years intervened between that and other great measures of time even to the Creation: and yet - here, even at our side in this high consummation of the art of man - the flood tide of his power - even as his heart floats high in it's pride - the throbs are around by the rude drums of wild and pagan nations as if to say "the real - the true consummation is not til we are such as you!" Shall have lots to tell you dearest.

for now adieu,
always lovingly Jack.

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