“Try not those fakes,” a stranger said,
“Unless you’re hankering to be bled!”
Alas, these words were all for naught—­
With still more fervor Adlai sought

                                        The Midway.

“Beware the divers games of chance,
Beware that Street in Cairo dance!”
All, all in vain, the warning cry—­
Adlai whooped, as he sailed by: 

                                        “The Midway!”

But why pursue this harrowing tale? 
Far better we should drop the veil
Of secrecy before begin
His exploits in that Vale of Sin,

                                        The Midway._

In the spring of 1892 Field was fortunate enough to find a house in Buena Park, a northern suburb of Chicago, which, besides having the convenience of a trolley connection with the centre of the city, had the incalculable advantage of overlooking the extensive and beautiful private grounds justly celebrated in “The Delectable Ballad of the Waller Lot”: 

Up yonder in Buena Park
There is a famous spot,
In legend and in history
Yclept the Waller Lot.

  There children play in daytime
    And lovers stroll by dark,
  For ’tis the goodliest trysting place
    In all Buena Park._

Next to owning a homestead, with rolling lawns and groves of old trees and family associations, Field enjoyed having someone else bear the burden of their maintenance for his immediate personal delectation, and the Waller homestead, with its park effects, afforded him that inexpensive pleasure.  His windows looked out upon a truly sylvan scene, the gates to which were always invitingly open, southern fashion, to congenial wayfarers.  The more Field saw of the Waller lot, the more completely did the old New England hankering after a homestead, with acres instead of square feet of lawn and trees, take possession of him; and the spectre of ten years’ rent for inconvenient flats and houses rose in his memory and urged him to buy land and build for himself.  This finally resulted in the following letter to the old friend to whom he always went in any financial emergency, and from whom he never came empty handed away: 

DEAR MR. GRAY:  An experience of a good many years has convinced me that the best way to deal with one’s fellow-creatures, and particularly with one’s friends, is directly and candidly.  This is one of the several considerations which lead me to write to you now asking you whether it be within your power (and also whether it be your willingness) to help me buy a home in Chicago.  Julia has been at me for a year to ask this of you.  I have hesitated to do so in the fear that the application might seem to be an attempt to take advantage of your friendship for me—­a friendship manifested in many ways and covering a period of many years.  Perhaps, however, we can now look at the matter