So we turned back and entered the house next to Jackson’s and talked something more than an hour and smoked many pipes and had a sociable good time.  His wife is very gentle and intelligent and pretty, and they have a cunning little girl nearly as big as Bay but only three years old.  They wanted me to come in and spend an evening, after the banquet, with them and Gen. Grant, after this grand pow-wow is over, but I said I was going home Friday.  Then they asked me to come Friday afternoon, when they and the general will receive a few friends, and I said I would.  Col.  Grant said he and Gen. Sherman used the Innocents Abroad as their guide book when they were on their travels.

I stepped in next door and took Dr. Jackson to the hotel and we played billiards from 7 to 11.30 P.M. and then went to a beer-mill to meet some twenty Chicago journalists—­talked, sang songs and made speeches till 6 o’clock this morning.  Nobody got in the least degree “under the influence,” and we had a pleasant time.  Read awhile in bed, slept till 11, shaved, went to breakfast at noon, and by mistake got into the servants’ hall.  I remained there and breakfasted with twenty or thirty male and female servants, though I had a table to myself.

A temporary structure, clothed and canopied with flags, has been erected at the hotel front, and connected with the second-story windows of a drawing-room.  It was for Gen. Grant to stand on and review the procession.  Sixteen persons, besides reporters, had tickets for this place, and a seventeenth was issued for me.  I was there, looking down on the packed and struggling crowd when Gen. Grant came forward and was saluted by the cheers of the multitude and the waving of ladies’ handkerchiefs—­for the windows and roofs of all neighboring buildings were massed full of life.  Gen. Grant bowed to the people two or three times, then approached my side of the platform and the mayor pulled me forward and introduced me.  It was dreadfully conspicuous.  The General said a word or so—­I replied, and then said, “But I’ll step back, General, I don’t want to interrupt your speech.”

“But I’m not going to make any—­stay where you are—­I’ll get you to make it for me.”

General Sherman came on the platform wearing the uniform of a full General, and you should have heard the cheers.  Gen. Logan was going to introduce me, but I didn’t want any more conspicuousness.

When the head of the procession passed it was grand to see Sheridan, in his military cloak and his plumed chapeau, sitting as erect and rigid as a statue on his immense black horse—­by far the most martial figure I ever saw.  And the crowd roared again.

It was chilly, and Gen. Deems lent me his overcoat until night.  He came a few minutes ago—­5.45 P.M., and got it, but brought Gen. Willard, who lent me his for the rest of my stay, and will get another for himself when he goes home to dinner.  Mine is much too heavy for this warm weather.