We should have made the run of 960 miles from Philadelphia to St. Louis
in thirty-six hours, but we had a collision and bad locomotive smash
about two-thirds of the way, which set us back. So merely stopping over
night that time in St. Louis, I sped on westward. As I cross'd Missouri
State the whole distance by the St. Louis and Kansas City Northern
Railroad, a fine early autumn day, I thought my eyes had never looked on
scenes of greater pastoral beauty. For over two hundred miles successive
rolling prairies, agriculturally perfect view'd by Pennsylvania and New
Jersey eyes, and dotted here and there with fine timber. Yet fine as the
land is, it isn't the finest portion; (there is a bed of impervious clay
and hard-pan beneath this section that holds water too firmly, "drowns
the land in wet weather, and bakes it in dry," as a cynical farmer told
me.) South are some richer tracts, though perhaps the beauty-spots of
the State are the northwestern counties. Altogether, I am clear, (now,
and from what I have seen and learn'd since,) that Missouri, in climate,
soil, relative situation, wheat, grass, mines, railroads, and every
important materialistic respect, stands in the front rank of the Union.
Of Missouri averaged politically and socially I have heard all sorts of
talk, some pretty severe--but I should have no fear myself of getting
along safely and comfortably anywhere among the Missourians. They raise
a good deal of tobacco. You see at this time quantities of the light
greenish-gray leaves pulled and hanging out to dry on temporary
frameworks or rows of sticks. Looks much like the mullein familiar to
eastern eyes.