The business seems to partake of the dignity of literature. —Miss Elizabeth Peabody, Boston bookseller, 1848 This is for booksellers everywhere, including Tamra, Beth Anne, Donita, Dean, Jennie, Terry, Gerald, Michael, Mary Gay, donNA, Donna, Sally, Lucinda, Marge, Rose Marie, Lois, DeeDee, Stefanie, Ruth Ann, Tanzey, Judy, Judy, Kyle, Charlie, Elaine, Char, Mary, Sharon, Virginia, Anne Marie, Leah, Yvonne, Tommy, Bobbie, Tina, Mark, Maureen, Cathy, Kathy, Rose, Dawn, Bronwyn. And of course, Fran at the Safeway. You enrich the lives of readers beyond measure. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Thanks to Barb, Joyce and Betty for knowing what's right and finding what's wrong, to Martha Keenan for her expert editing and to the Chicago Historical Society for keeping bygone days alive Part One I suppose I need hardly say that I like Chicago—like it in spite of lake-wind sharpness and prairie flatness, damp tunnels, swinging bridges, hard water, and easy divorces. —Sara Jane Clarke Lippincott (aka Grace Greenwood), 1871 Prologue Chicago Sunday, 8 October 1871 The city was like a matchstick, waiting to be struck.
