A GOOD many years ago there used to be a city named St. Anthony. It was built on the east side of the Mississippi River; then a city grew up on the west side named Minneapolis, and after awhile it swallowed St. Anthony and made one big city of itself on both sides of the river. I think St. Anthony would have been a prettier name for the city, on account of the Falls of St. Anthony being right there. But Minneapolis is pretty, too. I have never been there, but my brother has, and some day he is going to take me a long journey all over the West; then we will visit Minneapolis, and I will write to the Pansies about it.

Helen M. Leeds.

The flouring mills of Minneapolis are the largest in the world. They can make thirty-eight thousand barrels of flour in a day if they want to; and I guess they want to, for their flour is famous all over the country. I order flour for my grandmother, and she won’t have a barrel which does not say “Minneapolis” on it. I should think the coopers would all get rich out there. I read in a book that in one year they sold pretty nearly three million barrels!

John Willis Leeds.

I don’t know what I can write about Minneapolis. I think it is just like any other great big city, with electric lights, and street cars, and parks, and all those things, of course. I think cities are all alike; I like the country myself. But Minneapolis grows faster than many cities do. My grandfather was there in 1860, and there were only about six thousand inhabitants; now there are two hundred and twenty-five thousand. Some say more, but I think that is enough.

Harvey Campbell.

I am so glad it has come time to write about Minneapolis, because I went there myself only a year ago. I do think it is the loveliest place I was ever in. It seems more like a great big beautiful town than a city. The houses are not crowded together in great ugly-looking brick rows, all just alike, as they are in Philadelphia, and on some streets in New York; but almost all of them have lovely grounds, and trees, and flowers, and pretty lawns. Oh! I liked it all so much. We had a picnic out at the Falls of Minnehaha, the prettiest place I ever saw in my life. There is a magnificent park out there of more than a hundred acres, and the drive all the way through the city to the park is perfectly beautiful. Then of course the falls themselves are just too lovely! We had Mr. Dickson the elocutionist with us, and after lunch he recited parts of Longfellow’s poem about “Minnehaha, Laughing Water.” I had never read “Hiawatha” then, but I have since, and I know several pages of it by heart. But you cannot think how lovely it was to have Mr. Dickson recite it right at the falls. We took a great many lovely drives while we were in the city. We stopped at West Hotel, which is one of the finest in the United States, or for that matter in the world. It can accommodate twelve hundred guests, and it seemed as though there must be that number in the house while we were there. When we met in the great dining-room it seemed queer to think that there were more people there than can be found in the village where I live. Still I like our little village in the summer, and would not exchange it for a city. I would like to describe West Hotel, but I cannot, except to say that the furniture was grand, and everything was elegant. We rode past Senator Washburn’s house a great many times. It is out on Twenty-second Street and Third Avenue, and has ten acres of the most charming grounds, so that it is just the same to him as living in the country. The house is built of a kind of stone which is called kasota, and is very beautiful. I did not mean to make my letter so long, but there is a great deal to tell.

Alice Washburne Mills.

I have an aunt who is very fond of visiting churches. When she goes to a new place, if it is only a village, she wants to see all the churches and know about them. When she was in Minneapolis first, years ago, it was a little bit of a place, and my aunt is an old lady, and does not read the newspapers much, and did not realize that Minneapolis had grown a great deal. She went there last spring to visit a nephew. She reached there in the night, and was taken in a carriage to her nephew’s house, and did not realize the changes at all. The next morning at breakfast, when her nephew asked her what she would like to see in the city, she said she would like to visit the different churches if she could, and that perhaps as the day was pleasant they could go that morning.

“Very well,” said her nephew; “to which ones shall we go?”

“Oh! to all of them,” answered my aunt; “we can take a few minutes for each and see them all this forenoon, can we not?”

“Certainly,” said her nephew; “just as well as not. There are only about a hundred and sixty, I believe.”

And that was the first time my aunt knew that she was in a big city instead of the little town she had left thirty years or so before. But I don’t think her nephew was very polite to an old lady. She saw a good many of the churches, among them Dr. Wayland Hoyt’s, which she said she liked the best of all. It is the First Baptist Church of Minneapolis, and cost two hundred thousand dollars. It will seat about fifteen hundred people. I thought the Pansies would like to hear about it, because Dr. Hoyt wrote one of our “Regret” letters for us.

Minnie Andrews.

My uncle is a lawyer and lives in Minneapolis. He says the City Hall is just splendid. It cost three million dollars. Its great tower is three hundred and forty-five feet high, and there are only two others in the United States which can get above that. There isn’t any danger that this building will ever burn up, for it is made fire proof. I wonder why they don’t make all buildings fire proof? Then we would not have to buy engines, and pay firemen, and keep great splendid horses doing nothing all day long but wait for fires. This City Hall which I began to tell you about is three hundred feet square, and fills up a great block on four streets. I should like to see it. My uncle has a photograph of it, and it looks magnificent. I am going to be a lawyer, and I shall have an office in Minneapolis.

Harry Denning.

My father was acquainted with Governor Washburn, who gave three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars for the Washburn Memorial Orphan Asylum in Minneapolis. My father has been there to see the asylum. He says it is in a beautiful place, with lovely trees and plants in the grounds. There were fifty-seven orphans there when father visited it. I am glad they have such a nice place. I would like to be rich, like Governor Washburn, and give lots of money to something. I think I shall be, and I shall found an orphan asylum somewhere, but not in Minneapolis, because they don’t need another.

Horace Webster.

Minneapolis was started about the same time that St. Anthony was. They grew about the same for awhile, then Minneapolis got to growing so fast that about all which could be heard in that city was the pounding of hammers. Afterwards St. Anthony and Minneapolis were united.

Minneapolis was naturally a very pretty place, and until the last few years it was called the prettiest city in Minnesota, but now St. Paul is prettier.

Millie Rowell.

I attended the International Christian Endeavor Convention when it met in Minneapolis. I was a Junior delegate. We had a splendid time. The convention was held in the great Exposition building, which is three hundred and fifty feet square. That is, they made a big hall for the convention inside the building, and it held more than ten thousand people.

My sister and I visited the Public Library. It is a very handsome building. They say it cost a good deal over three hundred thousand dollars. We sat in one of the elegant reading-rooms and read books while our uncle was looking up something in books of reference. There are thousands and thousands of volumes there; I did know how many, but have forgotten. The street cars in Minneapolis are all electric. My sister did not like to ride on them when there was a thunderstorm, but I was not afraid. There are lots of lakes all around that part of the country, and of course the Falls of St. Anthony are there. It is queer to have a splendid falls in the midst of a city.

I think I like Minneapolis better than any place I was ever in. I may go to stay with my uncle and attend the University of Minnesota, which is there. That is what I want to do. If I go I shall know more about Minneapolis, and will write again.

Thomas Bailey Atwood.