DETROIT TO CHICAGO, 397 



Ann Arbor was reached about ten o^clock, but I did 

 not take more than a passing glance at the University, 

 noticing, however, that women as well as men were 

 among the students — a recent and wise change in the 

 law of the institution. The people were raising a 

 flag over one of the buildings as I rode through, and 

 on it in conspicuous letters were the names of Tilden 

 and Hendricks. 



Delhi, with no signs of a Lalla Rookh, and Scio, 

 modest under the dignity of its suggestive Latin name, 

 were quaint landmarks along my way, but I rode on 

 a mile beyond to have dinner at Dexter. The Huron 

 River has its source near here, in one of a cluster of 

 lakelets, bordering on Livingstone and Washtenaw 

 counties. All Michigan is covered with these small 

 bodies of water, which, with the streams, lie upon its 

 green surface like pearls in a network of silver. 



Leaving Dexter, I had company all the way to 

 Chelsea. Large flocks of sparrows flew along, lighting 

 upon the telegraph wires, and as I approached they 

 would fly away and settle again farther along, keeping 

 up a kind of race, which was evidently fun for them^ 

 and which greatly amused me. It seemed as though 

 they were tireless, and when I and my horse reached 

 our destination fatigued, after twenty-six miles of 

 travel in the sun, these strong-winged fellows were 

 ready for another flight. I do not doubt that they 

 easily accomplished the return journey, for we cannot 

 compute the distance they can cover in a day. They 

 are hardy little fellows and, despite the objections urged 

 against them, have many admirable qualities, not the 

 least among which is their tenacity of purpose. 



