summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/42501-0.txt
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
Diffstat (limited to '42501-0.txt')
-rw-r--r--42501-0.txt2595
1 files changed, 2595 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/42501-0.txt b/42501-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d9c35c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/42501-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,2595 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42501 ***
+
+NEW YORK SKETCHES
+
+
+[Illustration: On the Harlem River--University Heights from Fort
+George.]
+
+
+
+
+ NEW YORK SKETCHES
+
+ BY
+
+ JESSE LYNCH WILLIAMS
+
+ [Illustration]
+
+ WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+ NEW YORK 1902
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+
+ Published, November, 1902
+
+ Trow Directory
+ Printing & Bookbinding Company
+ New York
+
+
+
+
+ TO
+
+ Meade Creighton Williams
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ PAGE
+ THE WATER-FRONT 1
+
+ THE WALK UP-TOWN 27
+
+ THE CROSS STREETS 63
+
+ RURAL NEW YORK CITY 99
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+ On the Harlem River--University Heights from Fort
+ George _Frontispiece_
+
+ PAGE
+ Grant's Tomb and Riverside Drive (from the New Jersey
+ Shore) 3
+
+ Down along the Battery sea-wall is the place to watch
+ the ships go by 5
+
+ Old New Amsterdam 7
+
+ Just as it has been for years. (Between South Ferry and
+ the Bridge.)
+
+ New New York 9
+
+ Not a stone's throw farther up ... the towering white
+ city of the new century. (Between South Ferry and
+ the Bridge.)
+
+ From the point of view of the Jersey commuter ... some
+ uncommon, weird effects 11
+
+ (Looking back at Manhattan from a North River
+ ferry-boat.)
+
+ Swooping silently, confidently across from one city to
+ the other 13
+
+ (East River and Brooklyn Bridge.)
+
+ Looking up the East River from the Foot of Fifty-ninth
+ Street 15
+
+ Even in sky-line he could find something new almost
+ every week or two 17
+
+ The end of the day--looking back at Manhattan from the
+ Brooklyn Bridge.
+
+ For the little scenes ... quaint and lovable, one goes
+ down along the South Street water-front 19
+
+ Smacks and oyster-floats near Fulton Market. (At the
+ foot of Beekman Street, East River.)
+
+ This is the tired city's playground 21
+
+ Washington Bridge and the Speedway--Harlem River
+ looking south.
+
+ Here is where the town ends, and the country begins 23
+
+ (High Bridge as seen looking south from Washington
+ Bridge.)
+
+ The Old and the New, from Lower New York across the
+ Bridge to Brooklyn 24
+
+ From the top of the high building at Broadway and Pine
+ Street.
+
+ The old town does not change so fast about its edges 25
+
+ (Along the upper East River front looking north toward
+ Blackwell's Island.)
+
+ ... opposite the oval of the ancient Bowling Green 29
+
+ ... immigrant hotels and homes 30
+
+ No. 1 Broadway 30
+
+ Lower Broadway during a parade 30
+
+ The beautiful spire of Trinity 31
+
+ ... clattering, crowded, typical Broadway 32
+
+ City Hall with its grateful lack of height 33
+
+ What's the matter? 34
+
+ In the wake of a fire-engine 35
+
+ No longer to be thrilled ... will mean to be old 37
+
+ Grace Church spire becomes nearer 39
+
+ Through Union Square 40
+
+ ... windows which draw women's heads around 41
+
+ Instead of buyers ... mostly shoppers 42
+
+ ... crossing Fifth Avenue at Twenty-third Street 43
+
+ Madison Square with the sparkle of a clear ... October
+ morning 44
+
+ In front of the Fifth Avenue Hotel 45
+
+ Diana on top glistening in the sun 46
+
+ Seeing the Avenue from a stage-top 47
+
+ ... people go to the right, up Fifth Avenue 48
+
+ A seller of pencils 49
+
+ It is also better walking up here 50
+
+ ... those who walk for the sake of walking 51
+
+ At the lower corner of the Waldorf-Astoria 52
+
+ ... with baby-carriages 53
+
+ This is the region of Clubs 54
+
+ (The Union League.)
+
+ ... close-ranked boarding-school squads 55
+
+ ... the coachmen and footmen flock there 56
+
+ The Church of the Heavenly Rest 57
+
+ Approaching St. Thomas's 59
+
+ The University Club ... with college coats-of-arms 60
+
+ Olympia Jackies on shore leave 61
+
+ Down near the eastern end of the street 65
+
+ Across Trinity Church-yard, from the West 67
+
+ An Evening View of St. Paul's Church 69
+
+ The sights and smells of the water-front are here too 71
+
+ An Old Landmark on the Lower West Side 73
+
+ (Junction of Canal and Laight Streets.)
+
+ Up Beekman Street 75
+
+ Each ... has to change in the greatest possible hurry
+ from block to block.
+
+ Under the Approach to Brooklyn Bridge 77
+
+ Chinatown 79
+
+ It still remains whimsically individual and village-like 81
+
+ A Fourteenth Street Tree 83
+
+ Such as broad Twenty-third Street with its famous shops
+ 85
+
+ A Cross Street at Madison Square 87
+
+ Across Twenty-fourth Street--Madison Square when the
+ Dewey Arch was there 88
+
+ Herald Square 91
+
+ As it Looks on a Wet Night--The Circle, Fifty-ninth
+ Street and Eighth Avenue 93
+
+ Hideous high buildings 95
+
+ Looking east from Central Park at night.
+
+ Flushing Volunteer Fire Department Responding to a Fire
+ Alarm 103
+
+ A Bit of Farm Land in the Heart of Greater New York 105
+
+ Acre after acre, farm after farm, and never a sign of
+ city in sight.
+
+ One of the Farmhouses that have Come to Town 107
+
+ The old Duryea House, Flushing, once used as a
+ head-quarters for Hessian officers.
+
+ East End of Duryea House, where the Cow is Stabled 108
+
+ The Old Water-power Mill from the Rear of the Old
+ Country Cross-roads Store 109
+
+ The Old Country Cross-roads Store, Established 1828 110
+
+ In the background is the old water-power mill.
+
+ Interior of the Old Country Cross-roads Store 111
+
+ The Colony of Chinese Farmers, Near the Geographical
+ Centre of New York City 112
+
+ Working as industrially as the peasants of Europe, blue
+ skirts, red handkerchiefs about their heads 113
+
+ Remains of a Windmill in New York City, Between Astoria
+ and Steinway 114
+
+ The Dreary Edge of Long Island City 115
+
+ The Procession of Market-wagons at College Point Ferry
+ 116
+
+ Past dirty backyards and sad vacant lots 117
+
+ New York City Up in the Beginnings of the Bronx
+ Regions--Skating at Bronxdale 119
+
+ Another Kind of City Life--Along the Marshes of Jamaica
+ Bay 121
+
+ There is profitable oyster-dredging in several sections
+ of the city 123
+
+ Cemetery Ridge, Near Richmond, Staten Island 126
+
+ A Peaceful Scene in New York 127
+
+ In the distance is St. Andrew's Church, Borough of
+ Richmond, Staten Island.
+
+ A Relic of the Early Nineteenth Century, Borough of
+ Richmond 128
+
+ An Old-fashioned, Stone-arched Bridge. (Richmond, Staten
+ Island) 129
+
+ An Old House in Flatbush 131
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER-FRONT
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Grant's Tomb and Riverside Drive (from the New Jersey
+Shore).]
+
+
+
+
+THE WATER-FRONT
+
+
+Down along the Battery sea-wall is the place to watch the ships go by.
+
+Coastwise schooners, lumber-laden, which can get far up the river under
+their own sail; big, full-rigged clipper ships that have to be towed
+from the lower bay, their topmasts down in order to scrape under the
+Brooklyn Bridge; barques, brigs, brigantines--all sorts of sailing
+craft, with cargoes from all seas, and flying the flags of all nations.
+
+White-painted river steamers that seem all the more flimsy and riverish
+if they happen to churn out past the dark, compactly built ocean liners,
+who come so deliberately and arrogantly up past the Statue of Liberty,
+to dock after the long, hard job of crossing, the home-comers on the
+decks already waving handkerchiefs. Plucky little tugs (that whistle
+on the slightest provocation), pushing queer, bulky floats, which bear
+with ease whole trains of freight-cars, dirty cars looking frightened
+and out of place, which the choppy seas try to reach up and wash. And
+still queerer old sloop scows, with soiled, awkward canvas and no shape
+to speak of, bound for no one seems to know where and carrying you
+seldom see what. And always, everywhere, all day and night, whistling
+and pushing in and out between everybody, the ubiquitous, faithful,
+narrow-minded old ferry-boats, with their wonderful helmsmen in the
+pilot-house, turning the wheel and looking unexcitable....
+
+That is the way it is down around Pier A, where the New York Dock
+Commission meets and the Police Patrol boat lies, and by Castle Garden,
+where the river craft pass so close you can almost reach out and touch
+them with your hand.
+
+The "water-front" means something different when you think of Riverside
+and its greenness, a few miles to the north, with Grant's tomb, white
+and glaring in the sun, and Columbia Library back on Cathedral Heights.
+
+[Illustration: Down along the Battery sea-wall is the place to watch the
+ships go by.]
+
+Here the "lordly" Hudson is not yet obliged to become busy North River,
+and there is plenty of water between a white-sailed schooner yacht and
+a dirty tug slowly towing in silence--for there is no excuse here for
+whistling--a cargo of brick for a new country house up at Garrisons;
+while on the shore itself instead of wharves and warehouses and
+ferry-slips there are yacht and rowing club houses and an occasional
+bathing pavilion; and above the water edge, in place of the broken ridge
+of stone buildings with countless windows, there is the real bluff of
+good green earth with the well-kept drive on top and the sun glinting on
+harness-chains and automobiles.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Now, between these two contrasts you will find--you _may_ find, I mean,
+for most of you prefer to exhaust Europe and the Orient before you begin
+to look at New York--as many different sorts of interests and kinds of
+picturesqueness as there are miles, as there are blocks almost.
+
+For instance, down there by the starting-point. If you go up toward
+the bridge from South Ferry a block or so and pull down your hat-brim
+far enough to hide the tower of the Produce Exchange, you have a bit
+of old New Amsterdam, just as it has been for years, so old and so
+Amsterdamish, with its long, sloping roofs, gable windows, and even
+wooden-shoe-like canal-boats, that you may easily feel that you are in
+Holland, if you like. As a matter of fact, it is more like Hamburg, I
+am told, but either will do if you get an added enjoyment out of things
+by noting their similarity to something else and appreciate mountains
+and sunsets more by quoting some other person's sensations about other
+sunsets and mountains.
+
+[Illustration: Old New Amsterdam.
+
+Just as it has been for years.
+
+(Between South Ferry and the Bridge.)]
+
+But if you believe that there is also an inherent, characteristic
+beauty in the material manifestations of the spirit of our own new,
+vigorous, fearless republic--and whether you do or not, if you care to
+look at one of these sudden contrasts referred to--not a stone's throw
+farther up the water-front there is a notable sight of newest New York.
+This, too, is good to look at. Behind a foreground of tall masts with
+their square rigging and mystery (symbols of the world's commerce, if
+you wish), looms up a wondrous bit of the towering white city of the new
+century, a cluster of modern high buildings which, notwithstanding the
+perspective of a dozen blocks, are still high, enormously, alarmingly
+high--symbols of modern capital, perhaps, and its far-reaching
+possibilities, or they may remind you, in their massive grouping, of a
+cluster of mountains, with their bright peaks glistening in the sun far
+above the dark shadows of the valleys in which the streams of business
+flow, down to the wharves and so out over the world.
+
+Now, separately they may be impossible, these high buildings of
+ours--these vulgar, impertinent "sky-scrapers;" but, as a group, and
+in perspective, they are fine, with a strong, manly beauty all their
+own. It is the same as with the young nation; we have grown up so fast
+and so far that some of our traits, when considered alone, may seem
+displeasing, but they appear less so when we are viewed as a whole and
+from the right point of view.
+
+[Illustration: New New York.
+
+Not a stone's throw farther up ... the towering white city of the new
+century.
+
+(Between South Ferry and the Bridge.)]
+
+Or, on the other hand, for scenes not representatively commercial, nor
+residential either in the sense that Riverside is, but more of the
+sort that the word "picturesque" suggests to most people: There are all
+those odd nooks and corners, here and there up one river and down the
+other, popping out upon you with unexpected vistas full of life and
+color. Somehow the old town does not change so fast about its edges as
+back from the water. It seems to take a longer time to slough off the
+old landmarks.
+
+[Illustration: From the point of view of the Jersey commuter ... some
+uncommon, weird effects.
+
+(Looking back at Manhattan from a North River ferry-boat.)]
+
+The comfortable country houses along the shore, half-way up the island,
+first become uncomfortable city houses; then tenements, warehouses,
+sometimes hospitals, even police stations, before they are finally
+hustled out of existence to make room for a foul-smelling gas-house
+or another big brewery. Many of them are still standing, or tumbling
+down; pathetic old things they are, with incongruous cupolas and dusty
+fanlights and, on the river side, an occasional bit of old-fashioned
+garden, with a bunker which was formerly a terrace, and the dirty
+remains of a summer-house where children once had a good time--and still
+do have, different-looking children, who love the nearby water just as
+much and are drowned in it more numerously. It is not only by way of
+the recreation piers that these children and their parents enjoy the
+water. It is a deep-rooted instinct in human nature to walk out to the
+end of a dock and sit down and gaze; and hundreds of them do so every
+day in summer, up along here. Now and then through these vistas you get
+a good view of beautiful Blackwell's Island with its prison and hospital
+and poorhouse buildings. Those who see it oftenest do not consider it
+beautiful. They always speak of it as "The Island."
+
+For those who do not care to prowl about for the scattered bits
+of interest or who prefer what Baedeker would call "a magnificent
+panorama," there are plenty of good points of vantage from which to see
+whole sections at once, such as the Statue of Liberty or the tops of
+high buildings, or, obviously, Brooklyn Bridge, which is so very obvious
+that many Manhattanese would never make use of this opportunity were
+it not for an occasional out-of-town visitor on their hands. No one
+ought to be allowed to live in New York City--he ought to be made to
+live in Brooklyn--who does not go out there and look back at his town
+once a year. He could look at it every day and get new effects of light
+and color. Even in sky-line he could find something new almost every
+week or two. In a few years there will be a more or less even line--at
+least a gentle undulation--instead of these raw, jagged breaks that
+give a disquieting sense of incompletion, or else look as if a great
+conflagration had eaten out the rest of the buildings.
+
+[Illustration: Swooping silently, confidently across from one city to
+the other....
+
+(East River and Brooklyn Bridge.)]
+
+The sky-line and its constant change can be watched to best advantage
+from the point of view of the Jersey commuter on the ferry; he also has
+some wonderful coloring to look at and some uncommon, weird effects,
+such as that of a late autumn afternoon (when he has missed the 5.15 and
+has to go out on the 6.26) and it is already quite dark, but the city
+is still at work and the towering office-buildings are lighted--are
+brilliant indeed with many perfectly even rows of light dots. The dark
+plays tricks with the distance, and the water is black and snaky and
+smells of the night. All sorts of strange flares of light and puffs of
+shadow come from somewhere, and altogether the commuter, if he were not
+so accustomed to the scene, ought not to mind being late for dinner.
+However, the commuter is used to this, too.
+
+That scene is spectacular. There is another from the water that is
+dramatic. Possibly the pilots on the Fall River steamers become
+hardened, but to most of us there is an exciting delight in creeping up
+under that great bridge of ours and daringly slipping through without
+having it fall down this time; and then looking rather boastfully back
+at it, swooping silently, confidently across from one city to the
+other, as graceful and lean and characteristically American in its line
+as our cup defenders, and as overwhelmingly powerful and fearless as
+Niagara Falls. However much like the Thames Embankment is the bit of
+East Fifty-ninth Street in a yellow fog, and however skilful you may be
+in making an occasional acre of the Bronx resemble the Seine, our big
+bridges cannot very well remind anyone of anything abroad, because there
+aren't any others.
+
+[Illustration: Looking up the East River from the Foot of Fifty-ninth
+Street.]
+
+For the little scenes that are not inspiring or awful, but simply quaint
+and lovable, one goes down along the South Street water-front. Fulton
+Market with its memorable smells and the marketeers and 'longshoremen;
+and behind it the slip where clean-cut American-model smacks put in,
+and sway excitedly to the wash from the Brooklyn ferry-boats, which is
+not noticed by the sturdy New Haven Line steamers nearby. On the edge
+of the street and the water are the oyster floats, half house and half
+boat, which look like solid shops, with front doors, from the street
+side until, the seas hitting them, they, too, begin to sway awkwardly
+and startle the unaccustomed passer-by.
+
+It is down around here that you find slouching idly in front of
+ship-stores, loafing on cables and anchors, the jolly jack tar of
+modern days. From all parts of the world he comes, any number of him,
+if you can tell him when you see him, for he is seldom tarry and less
+often jolly, unless drunk on the very poor grog he gets in the various
+evil-looking dives thickly strewn along the water-fronts. Some of these
+are modern plate-glass saloons, but here and there is a cosey old-time
+tavern (with a step-down at the entrance instead of a step-up), low
+ceiling, dark interior, and in the window a thickly painted ship's model
+with flies on the rigging.
+
+Farther down, near Wall Street ferry, where the smells of the world
+are gathered, you may see the stevedores unloading liqueurs and spices
+from tropical ports, and coffees and teas; nearby are the places where
+certain men make their livings tasting these teas all day long, while
+the horse-cars jangle by.
+
+[Illustration: Even in sky-line he could find something new almost every
+week or two.
+
+The end of the day--looking back at Manhattan from the Brooklyn Bridge.]
+
+Old Slip and other odd-named streets are along here, where once the
+water came before the city outgrew its clothes; before Water Street,
+now two or three blocks back, had lost all right to its name. Here the
+big slanting bowsprits hunch away in over South Street as if trying to
+be quits with the land for its encroachment, and the plain old brick
+buildings huddled together across the way have no cornices for fear of
+their being poked off. Queer old buildings they are, sail lofts with
+their peculiar roofs, and sailors' lodging-houses, and the shops where
+the seaman can buy everything he needs from suspenders to anchor cables,
+so that after a ten-thousand mile cruise he can spend all his several
+months' pay within two blocks of where he first puts foot on shore and
+within one night from when he does so. Very often he has not energy to
+go farther or money to buy anything, thanks to the slavery system which
+conducts the sailors' lodging-houses across the way. There is nothing
+very picturesque about our modern merchant marine and its ill-used and
+over-worked sailors; it is only pathetic.
+
+Those are some of the reasons, I think, why East River is more
+interesting to most of us than North River. Another reason, perhaps, is
+that East River is not a river at all, but an arm of the ocean which
+makes Long Island, and true to its nature in spite of man's error it
+holds the charm of the sea. The North River side of the town in the old
+days had less to do with the business of those who go down to the sea
+in ships, was more rural and residential; and now its water-front is so
+jammed with railway ferry-houses and ocean-steamship docks that there is
+little room for anything else.
+
+[Illustration: For the little scenes ... quaint and lovable, one goes
+down along the South Street water-front.
+
+Smacks and oyster-floats near Fulton Market. (At the foot of Beekman
+Street, East River.)]
+
+However, these long, roofed docks of famous Cunarders and American and
+White Star Liners, and of the French steamers (which have a round-roof
+dock of a sort all their own) are interesting in their way, too, and the
+names of the foreign ports at the open entrance cause a strange fret to
+be up and going; especially on certain days of the week when thick smoke
+begins to pour from the great funnels which stick out so enormously
+above the top story of the now noisy piers. Cabs and carriages with
+coachmen almost hidden by trunks and steamer-rugs crowd in through the
+dock-gates, while, within, the hold baggage-derricks are rattling and
+there is an excited chatter of good-by talk....
+
+By the time you get up to Gansevoort Market, with its broad expanse of
+cobble-stones, the steamship lines begin to thin out and the ferries
+are now sprinkled more sparsely. Where the avenues grow out into
+their teens, there are coal-yards and lumber-yards. On the warehouses
+and factories are great twenty-foot letters advertising soap and
+cereals, all of which are the best.... Farther up is the region of
+slaughter-houses and their smells, gas-houses and their smells.... And
+so on up to Riverside, and across the new bridge to the unknown wildness
+of Manhattan's farthest north, and Fort Washington with its breastworks,
+which, it is pleasing to see, are being visited and picnicked upon more
+often than formerly.
+
+[Illustration: This is the tired city's playground.
+
+Washington Bridge and the Speedway--Harlem River looking south.]
+
+But over on the east edge of the town there is more to look at and more
+of a variety. All the way from the Bridge and the big white battle-ships
+squatting in the Navy Yard across the river; up past Kip's Bay with its
+dapper steam-yachts waiting to take their owners home from business;
+past Bellevue Hospital and its Morgue, past Thirty-fourth Street ferry
+with its streams of funerals and fishing-parties; Blackwell's Island
+with its green grass and the young doctors playing tennis, oblivious to
+their surroundings; Hell Gate with its boiling tide, where so many are
+drowned every year; East River Park with its bit of green turf (it is
+too bad there are not more of these parks on our water-fronts); past
+Ward's Island with its public institutions; Randall's Island with more
+public institutions--and so, up into the Harlem, where soon, around the
+bend, the occasional tall mast looks very incongruous when seen across a
+stretch of real estate.
+
+And now you have a totally different feel in the air and a totally
+different sort of "scenery." It is as different as the use it is put to.
+Below McComb's Dam Bridge, clear to the Battery, it was nearly all work;
+up here it is nearly all play.
+
+On the banks of the river, rowing clubs, yacht clubs, bathing
+pavilions--they bump into each other, they are so thick; on the
+water itself their members and their contents bump into each other
+on holidays--launches, barges, racing-shells and all sorts of small
+pleasure craft.
+
+[Illustration: Here is where the town ends, and the country begins.
+
+(High Bridge as seen looking south from Washington Bridge.)]
+
+Near the Manhattan end of McComb's Dam Bridge are the two fields famous
+for football victories, baseball championships, track games, open-air
+horse shows; across the bridge go the bicyclers and automobilists,
+hordes of them, brazen-braided bicyclists who use chewing-gum and lean
+far over, leather coated chauffeurs with their eyes unnecessarily
+protected.
+
+[Illustration: The Old and the New, from Lower New York Across the
+Bridge to Brooklyn.
+
+From the top of the high building at Broadway and Pine Street.]
+
+Up the river are college and school ovals and athletic fields; on the
+ridges upon either side are walks and paths for lovers. For the lonely
+pedestrian and antiquarians, two old revolutionary forts and some good
+colonial architecture. Whirly-go-rounds and big wheels for children,
+groves and beer-gardens for picnickers; while down on one bank of the
+stream upon the broad Speedway go the thoroughbred trotters with their
+red-faced masters behind in light-colored driving coats, eyes goggled,
+arms extended.
+
+On the opposite banks are the two railroads taking people to Ardsley
+Casino, St. Andrew's Golf Club, and the other country clubs and the
+public links at Van Cortlandt Park, and taking picnickers and family
+parties to Mosholu Park, and regiments and squadrons to drill and play
+battle in the inspection ground nearby, and botanists and naturalists
+and sportsmen for their fun farther up in the good green country.
+
+[Illustration: The old town does not change so fast about its edges.
+
+(Along the upper East River front looking north toward Blackwell's
+Island.)]
+
+No wonder there is a different feeling in the air up along the best
+known end of the city's water-front. The small, unimportant looking
+winding river, long distance views, wooded hills, green terraces, and
+even the great solid masonry of High Bridge, and the asphalt and stone
+resting-places on Washington Bridge somehow help to make you feel the
+spirit of freedom and outdoors and relaxation. This is the tired city's
+playground. Here is where the town ends, and the country begins.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE WALK UP-TOWN
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: ... opposite the oval of the ancient Bowling Green.]
+
+
+
+
+THE WALK UP-TOWN
+
+
+The walk up-town reaches from the bottom of the buzzing region where
+money is made to the bright zone where it is spent and displayed; and
+the walk is a delight all the way. It is full of variety, color, charm,
+exhilaration--almost intoxication, on its best days.
+
+Indeed, there are connoisseurs in cities who say that of all walks
+of this sort in the world New York's is the best. The walk in London
+from the city to the West End by way of Fleet Street, the Strand, and
+Piccadilly, is teeming with interest to the tourist--Temple Bar, St.
+Clement's, Trafalgar Square and all--but, for a walk up-town, a walk
+home to be taken daily, it is apt to be oppressive and saddening, even
+without the fog; so say many of those who know it best. Paris, with
+her boulevards, undoubtedly has unapproachable opportunities for the
+_flaneur_, but like Rome and Vienna and most of the other European
+capitals, she has no one main artery for a homeward stream of working
+humanity at close of day; and that is what "the walk up-town" means.
+
+[Illustration: ... immigrant hotels and homes.]
+
+[Illustration: No. 1 Broadway.]
+
+[Illustration: Lower Broadway during a parade.]
+
+And yet so few, comparatively, of those whose physique and office hours
+permit, take this appetizing, worry-dispelling walk of ours; this is
+made obvious every afternoon, from three o'clock on, by the surface and
+elevated cars, into which the bulk of scowling New York seems to prefer
+to push itself, after a day spent mostly indoors; here to get bumped
+and ill-tempered, snatching an occasional glimpse of the afternoon paper
+held in the hand which does not clutch the strap overhead. It seems a
+great pity. The walk is just the right length to take before dressing
+for dinner. A line drawn eastward from the park plaza at Fifty-eighth
+Street will almost strike an old mile-stone still standing in Third
+Avenue, which says, "4 miles from City Hall, New York." The City Hall
+was in Wall Street when those old-fashioned letters were cut, and Third
+Avenue was the Post Road.
+
+[Illustration: The beautiful spire of Trinity]
+
+
+I
+
+Many good New Yorkers (chiefly, however, of that small per cent. born in
+New York, who generally know rather little about their town except that
+they love it) have not been so remotely far down the island as Battery
+Park for a decade, unless to engage passage at the steamship offices
+which until recently were to be found in the sturdy houses of the good
+old Row (though once called "Mushroom Row") opposite the oval of the
+ancient Bowling Green, where now the oddly placed statue of Abram de
+Peyster sits and stares all day. (Now that these old gable windows and
+broad chimneys are gone I wonder how he will like the new Custom-house.)
+
+[Illustration: ... clattering, crowded, typical Broadway]
+
+Now, the grandmothers of these same New Yorkers, long ago, before
+there were any steamships, when Castle Garden was a separate island
+and Battery Park was a fashionable esplanade from which to watch the
+shipping in the bay and the sunsets over the Jersey hills--their
+grandmothers, dressed in tight pelisses and carrying reticules, were
+wont to take a brisk walk, in their very low-cut shoes, along the
+sea-wall before breakfast and breathe the early morning air. They did
+not have so far to go in those days, and it was a fashionable thing to
+do. To-day you can see almost every variety of humanity on the cement
+paths from Pier A to Castle Garden, except that known as fashionable.
+But the sunsets are just as good and the lights on the gentle hills of
+Staten Island quite as soft and there are more varieties of water-craft
+to gaze at in the bristling bay. I should think more people would come
+to look at it all.
+
+[Illustration: ... City Hall with its grateful lack of height ...]
+
+I mean of those even who do not like to mingle with other species
+than their own and yet want fresh air and exercise. On a Sunday in
+winter if they were to come down here for their afternoon stroll they
+would find (after a pleasant trip on nearly empty elevated cars) less
+"objectionable" people and fewer of them than on the crowded up-town
+walks.
+
+What there are of strollers down here--in winter--are representatives of
+the various sets of eminently respectable janitors' families (of which
+there are almost as many grades as there are heights of the roofs from
+which they have descended), and modest young jackies, with flapping
+trousers, and open-mouthed emigrants, though more of the latter are
+to be seen on those flimsy, one-horsed express wagons coming from the
+Barge Office, seated on piles of dirty baggage--with steerage tags still
+fresh--whole families of them, bright-colored head-gear and squalling
+children, bound for the foreign-named emigrant hotels and homes which
+are as interesting as the immigrants. Some of these latter are right
+opposite there on State Street, including one with "pillared balcony
+rising from the second floor to the roof," which is said to be the
+earlier home of Jacob Dolph in Bunner's novel--a better fate surely than
+that of the other New York house for which the book was named.
+
+[Illustration: What's the matter?]
+
+Across the park and up and around West Street are more of these
+immigrant places, some with foreign lettering and some plain Raines's
+law hotels with mirrored bars. One of them, perhaps the smallest and
+lowest-ceiled of all, is where Stevenson slept, or tried to, in his
+amateur emigranting.
+
+These are among the few older houses in New York used for the same
+purposes as from the beginning. They seem to have been left stranded
+down around this earliest part of the town by an eddy in the commercial
+current which sweeps nearly everything else to the northward from
+its original moorings.... But this is not what is commonly meant by
+"down-town," though it is the farthest down you can go, nor is it where
+the walk up-town properly begins.
+
+The Walk Up-town begins where the real Broadway begins, somewhat above
+the bend, past the foreign consulates, away from the old houses and the
+early nineteenth century atmosphere. Crowded sidewalks, a continuous
+roar, intent passers-by, jammed streets, clanging cable-cars with
+down-towners dodging them automatically; the region of the modern high
+business building.
+
+[Illustration: In the wake of a fire-engine.]
+
+Above are stories uncountable (unless you are willing to be bumped
+into); beside you, hurried-looking people gazing straight ahead or
+dashing in and out of these large doors which are kept swinging back
+and forth all day; very heavy doors to push, especially in winter,
+when there are sometimes three sets of them. Within is the vestibule
+bulletin-board with hundreds of men's names and office-numbers on it;
+near by stands a judicial-looking person in uniform who knows them all,
+and starts the various elevators by exclaiming "Up!" in a resonant
+voice. While outside the crowd still hums and hurries on; it never gets
+tired; it seems to pay no attention to anything. It is a matter of
+wonder how a living is made by all the newsstands on the corners; all
+the dealers in pencils and pipe-cleaners and shoe-strings and rubber
+faces who are thick between the corners, to whom as little heed is
+given as to the clatter of trucks or the wrangling of the now-blocked
+cable-cars, or the cursing truck-drivers, or the echoing hammering of
+the iron-workers on the huge girders of that new office building across
+the way.
+
+But that is simply because the crowd is accustomed to all these common
+phenomena of the city street. As a matter of fact, half of them are
+not so terrifically busy and important as they consider themselves.
+They seem to be in a great hurry, but they do not move very fast, as
+all know who try to take the walk up-town at a brisk pace, and most of
+them wear that intent, troubled expression of countenance simply from
+imitation or a habit generated by the spirit of the place. But it gives
+a quaking sensation to the poor young man from the country who has
+been walking the streets for weeks looking for a job; and it makes the
+visiting foreigner take out his note-book and write a stereotyped phrase
+or two about Americans--next to his note about our "Quick Lunch" signs
+which never fail to astonish him, and behind which may be seen lunchers
+lingering for the space of two cigars.
+
+An ambulance, with its nervous, arrogant bell, comes scudding down
+the street. A very important young interne is on the rear keeping his
+balance with arrogant ease. His youthful, spectacled face is set in
+stony indifference to all possible human suffering. The police clear the
+way for him. And now see your rushing "busy throng" forget itself and
+stop rushing. It blocks the sidewalk in five seconds, and still stays
+there, growing larger, after those walking up-town have passed on.
+
+The beautiful spire of Trinity, with its soft, brown stone and the green
+trees and quaintly lettered historic tombs beneath and the damp monument
+to Revolutionary martyrs over in one corner--no longer looks down
+benignly on all about it, because, for the most part, it has to look up.
+On all sides men have reared their marts of commerce higher than the
+house of God.
+
+[Illustration: No longer to be thrilled ... will mean to be old.]
+
+It seems perfectly proper that they should, for they must build in
+some direction and see what valuable real estate they have given up to
+those dead people who cannot even appreciate it. Here among the quiet
+graves the thoughtful stranger is accustomed to moralize tritely on how
+thoughtless of death and eternity is "the hurrying throng" just outside
+the iron fence, who, by the way, have to pass that church every day, in
+many cases three or four times, and so can't very well keep on being
+impressed by the nearness of death, etc., about which, perhaps, it is
+just as well not to worry during the hours God meant for work. Even
+though one cannot get much of a view from the steeple, except down Wall
+Street, which looks harmless and disappointingly narrow and quiet at
+first sight, Trinity is still one of the show-places of New York, and
+it makes a pleasing and restful landmark in the walk up Broadway. It
+deserves to be starred in Baedeker.
+
+Now comes the most rushing section of all down-town: from Trinity to
+St. Paul's, clattering, crowded, typical Down-Town. So much in a hurry
+is it that at Cedar Street it skips in twenty or thirty feet a whole
+section of numbers from 119 to 135. The east side of the street is not
+so capricious; it skips merely from No. 120 to 128.
+
+The people that cover the sidewalks up and down this section,
+occasionally overflowing into the streets, would probably be pronounced
+a typical New York crowd, although half of them never spend an entire
+day in New York City from one end of the month to the other, and half
+of that half sleep and eat two of their meals in another State of the
+Union. The proportion might seem even greater than that, perhaps it is,
+if at the usual hour the up-town walker should be obliged to struggle up
+Cortlandt Street or any of the ferry streets down which the torrents of
+commuters pour.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Up near St. Paul's the sky-scrapers again become thick, so that the
+occasional old-fashioned five or six story buildings of solid walls with
+steep steps leading up to the door, seem like playthings beside which
+the modern building shoots up--on up, as if just beginning where the
+old ones left off. More like towers are many of these new edifices, or
+magnified obelisks, as seen from the ferries, the windows and lettering
+for hieroglyphics. Others are shaped like plain goods-boxes on end, or
+suggest, the ornate ones, pieces of carefully cut cake standing alone
+and ready to fall over at any moment and damage the icing.
+
+[Illustration: ... Grace Church Spire becomes nearer.]
+
+Good old St. Paul's, which is really old and, to some of us, more
+lovable than ornate, Anglican Trinity, has also been made to look
+insignificant in size by its overpowering commercial neighbors,
+especially as seen from the Sixth Avenue Elevated cars against the
+new, ridiculous high building on Park Row. But St. Paul's turns its
+plain, broad, Colonial back upon busy Broadway and does not seem
+to care so much as Trinity. The church-yard is not so old nor so
+large as Trinity's, but somehow it always seems to me more rural and
+church-yardish and feels as sunny and sequestered as though miles
+instead of a few feet from Broadway and business.
+
+[Illustration: Through Union Square.]
+
+Now, off to the right oblique from St. Paul's, marches Park Row with
+its very mixed crowd, which overflows the sidewalks, not only now at
+going-home time, but at all hours of the day and most of the night;
+and on up, under the bridge conduit, black just now with home-hurrying
+Brooklynites and Long Islanders, we know we could soon come to the
+Bowery and all that the Bowery means, and that, of course, is a walk
+worth taking. But The Walk Up-town, as such, lies straight up Broadway,
+between the substantial old Astor House, the last large hotel remaining
+down-town, and the huge, obtrusive post-office building, as hideous
+as a badly tied bundle, but which leads us on because we know--or, if
+strangers, because we do not know--that when once we get beyond it
+we shall see the calm, unstrenuous beauty of the City Hall with its
+grateful lack of height, in its restful bit of park. Here, under the
+first trees, is the unconventional statue of Nathan Hale, and there,
+under those other trees--up near the court-house, I suppose--is where
+certain memorable boy stories used to begin, with a poor, pathetic
+newsboy who did noble deeds and in the last chapter always married the
+daughter of his former employer, now his partner.
+
+By this time some of the regular walkers up-town have settled down to a
+steady pace; others are just falling in at this point--just falling in
+here where once (not so very many years ago) the city fathers thought
+that few would pass but farmers on the way to market, and so put cheap
+red sandstone in the back of the City Hall.
+
+[Illustration: ... windows which draw women's heads around.]
+
+Over there, on the west side of the street, still stands a complete row
+of early buildings--one of the very few remaining along Broadway--with
+gable windows and wide chimneys. Lawyers' offices and insurance signs
+are very prominent for a time. Then comes a block or two chiefly of
+sporting-goods stores with windows crowded full of hammerless guns,
+smokeless cartridges, portable canoes, and other delights which from
+morning to night draw sighs out of little boys who press their faces
+against the glass awhile and then run on. Next is a thin stratum
+composed chiefly of ticket-scalpers, then suddenly you find yourself in
+the heart of the wholesale district, with millions of brazen signs, one
+over another, with names "like a list of Rhine wines;" block after block
+of it, a long, unbroken stretch.
+
+[Illustration: Instead of buyers ... mostly shoppers.]
+
+
+II
+
+This comes nearer to being monotonous than any part of the walk. But
+even here, to lure the walker on, far ahead, almost exactly in the
+centre of the cañon of commercial Broadway, can be seen the pure white
+spire of Grace Church, planted there at the bend of the thoroughfare, as
+if purposely to stand out like a beacon and signal to those below that
+Broadway changes at last and that up there are some Christians.
+
+But there are always plenty of people to look at, nor are they all
+black-mustached, black-cigared merchants talking dollars; at six
+o'clock women and girls pour down the stairs and elevators, and out
+upon the street with a look of relief; stenographers, cloak inspectors,
+forewomen, and little girls of all ages. Then you hear "Good-night,
+Mame." "Good-night, Rachel." "What's your hurry? Got a date?" And off
+they go, mostly to the eastward, looking exceedingly happy and not
+invariably overworked.
+
+[Illustration: ... crossing Fifth Avenue at Twenty-third Street.]
+
+Others are emissaries from the sweat-shops, men with long beards and
+large bundles and very sober eyes, patriarchal-looking sometimes when
+the beard is white, who go upstairs with their loads and come down again
+and trudge off down the side-street once more to go on where they left
+off, by gas-light now.
+
+And all this was once the great Broadway where not many years ago the
+promenaders strutted up and down in the afternoon, women in low neck and
+India shawls; dandies, as they were then called, in tremendous trousers
+with huge checks. Occasionally even now you see a few strollers here by
+mistake, elderly people from a distance revisiting New York after many
+years and bringing their families with them. "Now, children, you are on
+Broadway!" the fatherly smile seems to say. "Look at everything." They
+probably stop at the Astor House.
+
+[Illustration: ... Madison Square with the sparkle of a clear ...
+October morning.]
+
+As the wholesale dry-goods district is left behind and the realm of the
+jobbers in "notions" is reached, and the handlers of artificial flowers
+and patent buttons and all sorts of specialties, Grace Church spire
+becomes nearer and clearer, so that the base of it can be seen. Here, as
+below, and farther below and above and everywhere along Broadway, are
+the stoop and sidewalk sellers of candies, dogs, combs, chewing-gum,
+pipes, looking-glasses, and horrible burning smells. They seem
+especially to love the neighborhood of what all walkers up-town detest,
+a new building in the course of erection--with sidewalks blocked, and
+a set of steep steps to mount--only, your true walker up-town always
+prefers to go around by way of the street, where he is almost run down
+by a cab, perhaps, which he forgets entirely a moment later when he
+suddenly hears a stirring bell, an approaching roar, and a shrieking
+whistle growing louder:
+
+Across Broadway flashes a fire-engine, with the horses at a gallop,
+the earth trembling, the hatless driver leaning forward with arms out
+straight, and a trail of sparks and smoke behind. Another whizz, and the
+long ladder-wagon shoots across with firemen slinging on their flapping
+coats, while behind in its wake are borne many small crazed boys, who
+could no more keep from running than the alarm-bell at the engine-house
+could keep from ringing when the policeman turned on the circuit.
+And young boys are not the only ones. No more to be thrilled by this
+delight--it will mean to be old.
+
+[Illustration: In front of the Fifth Avenue Hotel.]
+
+
+III
+
+At last Grace Church, with its clean light stone, is reached; and the
+green grass and shrubbery in front of the interesting-looking Gothic
+rectory. It is a glad relief. And now--in fact, a little before this
+point--about where stood that melancholy building bearing the plaintive
+sign "Old London Street"--which was used now for church services and now
+prize-fights and had never been much of a success at anything--about
+here, the up-town walkers notice (unless lured off to the left by the
+thick tree-tops of Washington Square to look at the goodliest row of
+houses in all the island) that the character of Broadway has changed
+even more than the direction of the street changes. A short distance
+below the bend all the stores were wholesale, now they are becoming
+solidly retail. Instead of buyers the people along the street are
+mostly shoppers. Down there were very few women; up here are very few
+men. This is especially noticeable when Union Square is reached, with
+cable-cars clanging around Dead Man's Curve in front of Lafayette's
+statue. Here, down Fourteenth Street, may be seen shops and shoppers of
+the most virulent type; windows which draw women's heads around whether
+they want to look or not, causing them to run you down and making them
+deaf to your apologies for it. Big dry-goods stores and small millinery
+shops; general stores and department stores, and the places where
+the sidewalks are crowded with what is known to the trade as "Louis
+Fourteenth Street furniture." All this accounts for there being more
+restaurants now and different smells and another feeling in the air.
+
+[Illustration: ... Diana on top glistening in the sun.]
+
+From the upper corner of Union Square, with its glittering
+jewellery-shops and music-stores and publishers' buildings, and its
+somewhat pathetic-looking hotels, once fashionable but now fast becoming
+out-of-date and landmarky (though they seem good enough to those who
+sit and wait on park benches all day), the open spaciousness of Madison
+Square comes into view, the next green oasis for the up-town traveller.
+This will help him up the intervening blocks if he is not interested in
+the stretch of stores, though these are a different sort of shop, and
+they seem to say, with their large, impressive windows, their footmen,
+their buttons at the door, "We are very superior and fashionable."
+
+[Illustration: Seeing the Avenue from a stage-top.]
+
+The shoppers, too, are not so rapacious along here, because they have
+more time; and the clatter is not so great, because there are more
+rubber-tired carriages in the street. Nor are all these people shoppers
+by any means, for along this bit of Broadway mingle types of all
+the different sorts of men and women who use Broadway at all: nuns,
+actors, pickpockets, detectives, sandwich-men, little girls going to
+Huyler's, artists on the way to the Players'--the best people and the
+worst people, the most mixed crowd in town may be seen here of a bright
+afternoon.
+
+When they get up to Madison Square the crowd divides and, as some would
+have us think, all the "nice" people go to the right, up Fifth Avenue,
+while all the rest go the left, up the Broadway Rialto and the typical
+part of the Tenderloin.
+
+But when Madison Square is reached you have come to one of the Places
+of New York. It is the picture so many confirmed New Yorkers see when
+homesick, Madison Square with the sparkle of a clear, bracing October
+morning, the creamy Garden Tower over the trees, standing out clear-cut
+against the sky, Diana on top glistening in the sun; a soft, purple
+light under the branches in the park, a long, decorative row of cabs
+waiting for "fares," over toward the statue of Farragut, and lithe
+New York women, wearing clothes as they alone know how to wear them,
+crossing Fifth Avenue at Twenty-third Street while a tall Tammany
+policeman holds the carriages back with a wave of his little finger.
+
+[Illustration: ... people go to the right, up Fifth Avenue.]
+
+It is all so typically New York. Over on the north side by the Worth
+monument I have heard people exclaim, "Oh, Paris!" because, I suppose,
+there is a broad open expanse of asphalt and the street-lights are in a
+cluster, but it seems to me to be as New Yorkish as New York can be. It
+has an atmosphere distinctively its own--so distinctly its own that many
+people, as I tried to say on an earlier page, miss it entirely, simply
+because they are looking for and failing to find the atmosphere of some
+other place.
+
+[Illustration: A seller of pencils.]
+
+
+IV
+
+Now this last lap of the walk--from green Madison Square and the new
+Martin's up the sparkling avenue to the broad, bright Plaza at the Park
+entrance, where the brightly polished hotels look down at the driving,
+with their awnings flapping and flags out straight--makes the most
+popular part of all the walk.
+
+This is the land of liveried servants and jangling harness, far away,
+or pretending to be, from work and worry; this is where enjoyment is
+sought and vanity let loose--and that, with the accompanying glitter and
+glamour, is always more interesting to the great bulk of humanity.
+
+It is also better walking up here. The pavements are cleaner now and
+there is more room upon them. A man could stand still in the middle of
+the broad, smooth walk and look up in the air without collecting a crowd
+instantaneously. You can talk to your companion and hear the reply since
+the welcome relief of asphalt.
+
+Here can be seen hundreds of those who walk for the sake of
+walking, not only at this hour but all day long. In the morning,
+large, prosperous-looking New Yorkers with side-whiskers and
+well-fed bodies--and, unintentionally, such amusing expressions,
+sometimes--walking part way, at least, down to business, with partly
+read newspapers under their arms; while in the opposite direction go
+young girls, slender, erect, with hair in a braid and school-books under
+their arms and well-prepared lessons.
+
+[Illustration: It is also better walking up here.]
+
+Then come those that walk at the convenience of dogs, attractive or
+kickable, and a little later the close-ranked boarding-school squads and
+the cohorts of nurse-maids with baby-carriages four abreast, charging
+everyone off the sidewalk. Next come the mothers of the babies and their
+aunts, setting out for shopping, unless they have gone to ride in the
+Park, and for Guild Meetings and Reading Clubs and Political Economy
+Classes and Heaven knows what other important morning engagements,
+ending, perhaps, with a visit to the nerve-specialist.
+
+And so on throughout the morning and afternoon and evening hours, each
+with its characteristic phase, until the last late theatre-party
+has gone home, laughing and talking, from supper at Sherry's or the
+Waldorf-Astoria; the last late bachelor has left the now quiet club; the
+rapping of his cane along the silent avenue dies away down an echoing
+side-street; and a lonely policeman nods in the shadow of the church
+gate-post. Suddenly the earliest milk-wagon comes jangling up from the
+ferry; then dawn comes up over the gas-houses along East River and it
+all begins over again.
+
+[Illustration: ... those who walk for the sake of walking.]
+
+But the most popular and populous time of all is the regular
+walking-home hour, not only for those who have spent the day down
+toward the end of the island at work, but for those who have no more
+serious business to look after than wandering from club to club drinking
+cocktails, or from house to house drinking tea.
+
+All who take the walk regularly meet many of the same ones every day,
+not only acquaintances, but others whom we somehow never see in any
+other place, but learn to know quite well, and we wonder who they
+are--and they wonder who we are, I suppose. Pairs of pink-faced old
+gentlemen, walking arm-in-arm and talking vigorously. Contented young
+couples who look at the old furniture in the antique-shop windows and
+who are evidently married, and other younger couples who evidently soon
+will be, and see nothing, not even their friends. Intent-browed young
+business men with newspapers under their arms; governesses out with
+their charges; bevies of fluffy girls with woodcock eyes, especially on
+matinée day with programmes in their hands, talking gushingly.
+
+[Illustration: At the lower corner of the Waldorf-Astoria.]
+
+It is a sort of a club, this walking-up-the-avenue crowd; and each
+member grows to expect certain other members at particular points in the
+walk, and is rather disappointed when, for instance, the old gentleman
+with the large nose is not with his daughter this evening. "What can be
+the matter?" the rest of us ask each other, seeing her alone.
+
+There is one man, the disagreeable member of the club, a
+bull-frog-looking man of middle age with a Germanic face and beard, a
+long stride, and a tightly buttoned walking-coat (I'm sure he's proud
+of his chest), who comes down when we are on the way up and gets very
+indignant every time we happen to be late. His scowl says, as plainly as
+this type, "What are you doing way down here by the Reform Club? You
+know you ought to be passing the Cathedral by this time!" And the worst
+of it is, we always do feel ashamed, and I'm afraid he sees it.
+
+[Illustration: ... with baby-carriages.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+This mile and a half from where Flora McFlimsey lived to the beginning
+of the driving in the Park is not the staid, sombre, provincial old
+Fifth Avenue which Flora McFlimsey knew. Up Fifth Avenue to the Park New
+York is a world-city.
+
+Not merely have so many of the brownstone dwellings, with their high
+stoops and unattractive impressiveness, been turned over to business or
+pulled down altogether to make room for huge, hyphenated hotels, but the
+old spirit of the place itself has been turned out; the atmosphere is
+different.
+
+The imported smartness of the shops, breeches makers to His Royal
+Highness So-and-So, and millinery establishments with the same Madame
+Luciles and Mademoiselle Lusettes and high prices, that have previously
+risen to fame in Paris and London, together with the numerous clubs
+and picture-galleries, all furnish local color; but it is the people
+themselves that you see along the streets, the various languages they
+speak, their expression of countenance, the way they hold themselves,
+the manner of their servants--in a word, it is the atmosphere of the
+spot that makes you feel that it is not a mere metropolis, but along
+this one strip at least our New York is a cosmopolis.
+
+[Illustration: This is the region of clubs. (The Union League.)]
+
+And the Walk-Up-town hour is the best time to observe it, when all the
+world is driving or walking home from various duties and pleasures.
+
+There, on that four-in-hand down from Westchester County comes a group
+of those New Yorkers who, unwillingly or otherwise, get their names so
+often in the papers. The lackey stands up and blows the horn and they
+manage very well to endure the staring of those on the sidewalks.
+
+Here, in the victoria behind them, is a woman who worships them. She
+would give many of her husband's new dollars to be up there too, though
+pretending not to see the drag. See how she leans back in the cushions
+and tries to prop her eyebrows up, after the manner of the Duchess she
+once saw in the Row. She succeeds fairly well, too, if only her husband
+wouldn't spoil it by crossing his legs and exposing his socks.
+
+Here are other women with sweet, artless faces who do not seem to be
+strenuous or spoiled (as yet) by the world they move in, and these are
+the most beautiful women in all the world; some in broughams (as one
+popular story-writer invariably puts his heroines), or else walking
+independently with an interesting gait.
+
+[Illustration: ... close-ranked boarding-school squads.]
+
+Here, in that landau, comes the latest foreign-titled visitor, urbane
+and thoughtfully attentive to all that his friends are saying and
+pointing out to him. And here is a bit of color, some world-examining,
+tired-eyed Maharajah, with silk clothes--or was it only one of the
+foreign consuls who drive along here every day.
+
+There goes a fashionable city doctor, who has a high gig, and
+correspondingly high prices, hurrying home for his office hours. Surely,
+it would be more comfortable to get in and out of a low phaëton; this
+vehicle is as high as that loud, conspicuous, advertising florist's
+wagon--can it be for the same reason?
+
+Here in that grinding automobile come a man and two women on their way
+to an East Side _table d'hôte_, to see Bohemia, as they think; see how
+reckless and devilish they look by anticipation! Up there on that 'bus
+are some people from the country, real people from the real country,
+and their mouths are open and they don't care. They are having much
+more pleasure out of their trip than the self-conscious family group
+entering that big gilded hotel, whose windows are constructed for seeing
+in as well as out (and that is another way of advertising).
+
+[Illustration: ... the coachmen and footmen flock there.]
+
+Here comes a prominent citizen outlining his speech on his way home
+to dress for the great banquet to-night, for he is a well-known
+after-dinner orator, and during certain months of the year never has a
+chance to dine at home with his family. Suppose, after all, he fails of
+being nominated!
+
+Here come a man and his wife walking down to a well-known
+restaurant--early, so that he will have plenty of time to smoke at
+the table and she to get comfortably settled at the theatre with the
+programme folded before the curtain rises; such a sensible way. He is
+not prominent at all, but they have a great deal of quiet happiness out
+of living, these two.
+
+And there goes the very English comedian these two are to see in
+Pinero's new piece after dinner, though they did not observe him, to his
+disappointment. It is rather late for an actor to be walking down to
+his club to dine, but he is the star and doesn't come on until the end
+of the first act, and his costume is merely that same broad-shouldered
+English-cut frock coat he now has on. We, however, must hurry on.
+
+[Illustration: The Church of the Heavenly Rest.]
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Because it keeps the eyes so busy, seeing all the people that pass, one
+block of buildings seems very much like another the first few times
+the new-comer takes this walk, except, of course, for conspicuous
+landmarks like that of the new library on the site of the late reservoir
+or the Arcade on the site of the old Windsor Hotel, with its ghastly
+memories; but after awhile all the blocks begin to seem very different;
+not only the one where you saw a boy on a bicycle run down and killed,
+or where certain well-known people live, but the blocks formerly
+considered monotonous. There are volumes of stories along the way.
+Down Twenty-ninth Street can be seen, so near the avenue and yet so
+sequestered, the Church of the Transfiguration, as quaint and low and
+toy-like as a stage-setting, ever blessed by stage-people for the act
+which made the Little Church Around the Corner known to everyone, and by
+which certain pharisees were taught the lesson they should have learned
+from the parable in their New Testament.
+
+Farther up is a church of another sort, where Europeans of more or
+less noble blood marry American daughters of acknowledged solvency,
+while the crowd covers the sidewalks and neighboring house-steps.
+Here, consequently, other people's children come to be married, though
+neither, perhaps, attended this church before the rehearsal, and get
+quite a good deal about it in the society column too, though, to tell
+the truth, they had hoped that the solemn union of these two souls
+would appropriately call forth more publicity. Shed a tear for them
+in passing. There are many similar disappointments in life along this
+thoroughfare.
+
+Farther back we passed what a famous old rich man intended for the
+finest house in New York, and it has thus far served chiefly as a marble
+moral. Its brilliance is dingy now, its impressiveness is gone, and
+its grandeur is something like that of a Swiss _chalet_ at the base of
+a mountain since the erection across the street of an overpowering,
+glittering hotel.
+
+This is the region of clubs; they are more numerous than drug-stores,
+as thick as florists' shops. But it seems only yesterday that a certain
+club, in moving up beyond Fortieth Street, was said to be going
+ruinously far up-town. Now nearly all the well-known clubs are creeping
+farther and farther along, even the old Union Club, which for long
+pretended to enjoy its cheerless exclusiveness down at the corner of
+Twenty-first Street, stranded among piano-makers and publishers, and
+then with a leap and a bound went up to Fiftieth Street to build its
+bright new home.
+
+[Illustration: Approaching St. Thomas's.]
+
+Soon the new, beautiful University Club at Fifty-fourth Street, with the
+various college coats of arms on its walls, which never fail to draw
+attention from the out-of-town visitors on 'bus-tops, will not seem to
+be very far up-town, and by and by even the great, white Metropolitan
+will not be so much like a lonely iceberg opposite the Park entrance. I
+wonder if anyone knows the names of them all; there always seem to be
+others to learn about. Also one learns in time that two or three houses
+which for a long time were thought to be clubs are really the homes
+of former mayors, receiving from the city, according to the old Dutch
+custom, the two lighted lamps for their doorways. This section of the
+avenue where, in former years, were well-known rural road-houses along
+the drive, is once more becoming, since the residence _régime_ is over,
+the region of famous hostelries of another sort.
+
+[Illustration: The University Club ... with college coats of arms.]
+
+There is just one of the old variety left, and it, strangely enough,
+is within a few feet of two of the most famous restaurants in
+America--the somewhat quaint and quite dirty old Willow Tree Cottage;
+named presumably for the tough old willow-tree which still persistently
+stands out in front, not seeming to mind the glare and stare of the
+tall electric lights any more than the complacent old tumble-down
+frame tavern itself resents the proximity of Delmonico's and Sherry's,
+with whom it seems to fancy itself to be in bitter but successful
+rivalry--for do not all the coachmen and footmen flock there during the
+long, wet waits of winter nights, while the dances are going on across
+at Sherry's and Delmonico's? Business is better than it has been for
+years.
+
+In time, even the inconspicuous houses that formerly seemed so much
+alike become differentiated and, like the separate blocks, gain
+individualities of their own, though you may never know who are the
+owners. They mean something to you, just as do so many of the regular
+up-town walkers whose names you do not know; fine old comfortable
+places many of them are, even though the architects of their day
+did try hard to make them uncomfortable with high, steep steps and
+other absurdities. When a "For Sale" sign comes to one of these you
+feel sorry, and finally when one day in your walk up-town you see it
+irrevocably going the way of all brick, with a contractor's sign out in
+front, blatantly boasting of his wickedness, you resent it as a personal
+loss.
+
+[Illustration: Olympia Jackies on shore leave.]
+
+It seems all wrong to be pulling down those thick walls; exposing
+the privacy of the inside of the house, its arrangement of rooms and
+fireplaces, and the occupant's taste in color and wall decorations. Two
+young women who take the walk up-town always look the other way when
+they pass this sad display; they say it's unfair to take advantage of
+the house. Soon there will be a deep pit there with puffing derricks,
+the sidewalk closed, and show-bills boldly screaming. And by the time
+we have returned from the next sojourn out of town there will be an
+office-building of ever-so-many stories or another great hotel. Already
+the sign there will tell about it.
+
+You quicken your pace as you draw near the Park; some of the up-town
+walkers who live along here have already reached the end of their
+journey and are running up the steps taking out door-keys. The little
+boy in knickerbockers who seems responsible for lighting Fifth Avenue
+has already begun his zigzag trip along the street; soon the long double
+rows of lights will seem to meet in perspective. A few belated children
+are being hurried home by their maids from dancing-school; their white
+frocks sticking out beneath their coats gleam in the half light. Cabs
+and carriages with diners in them go spinning by, the coachmen whip up
+to pass ahead of you at the street-crossing; you catch a gleam of men's
+shirt-bosoms within and the light fluffiness of women, with the perfume
+of gloves. Fewer people are left on the sidewalks now--those that are
+look at their watches. The sun is well set by the time you reach the
+Plaza, but down Fifty-ninth Street you can see long bars of after-glow
+across the Hudson.
+
+In the half-dark, under the Park trees, comes a group of Italian
+laborers; their hob-nailed shoes clatter on the cement-walk, their blue
+blouses and red neckerchiefs stand out against the almost black of the
+trees; they, too, are walking home for the night. The Walk Up-town is
+finished and the show is over for to-day.
+
+
+
+
+THE CROSS STREETS
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Down near the eastern end of the street.]
+
+
+
+
+THE CROSS STREETS
+
+
+A city should be laid out like a golf links; except for an occasional
+compromise in the interest of art or expediency it should be allowed to
+follow the natural topography of the country.
+
+But this is not the way the matter was regarded by the commission
+appointed in 1807 to lay out the rural regions beyond New York, which
+by that time had grown up to the street now called Houston, and then
+called North Street, probably because it seemed so far north--though, to
+be sure, there were scattered hamlets and villages, with remembered and
+forgotten names, here and there, all the way up to the historic town
+of Haarlem. The commissioners saw fit to mark off straight street after
+shameless straight street with the uncompromising regularity of a huge
+foot-ball field, and gave them numbers like the white five-yard lines,
+instead of names. They paid little heed to the original arrangements
+of nature, which had done very well by the island, and still less to
+man's previous provisions, spontaneously made along the lines of least
+resistance--except, notably, in the case of Greenwich, which still
+remains whimsically individual and village-like despite the attempt to
+swallow it whole by the "new" city system.
+
+This plan, calling for endless grading and levelling, remains to this
+day the official city chart as now lived down to in the perpendicular
+gorges cut through the hills of solid rock seen on approaching Manhattan
+Field; but the commissioners' marks have not invariably been followed,
+or New York would have still fewer of its restful green spots to gladden
+the eye, nor even Central Park, indeed, for that space also is checkered
+in their chart with streets and avenues as thickly as in the crowded
+regions above and below it.
+
+[Illustration: Across Trinity Church-yard, from the West.]
+
+However, anyone can criticise creative work, whether it be the plan
+of a play or a city, but it is difficult to create. Not many of us
+to-day who complacently patronize the honorable commissioners would
+have made a better job of it if we had lived at that time--and had been
+consulted. For at that time, we must bear in mind, even more important
+foreign luxuries than golf were not highly regarded in America, and
+America had quite recently thrown off a foreign power. That in itself
+explains the matter. Our country was at the extreme of its reaction
+from monarchical ideals, and democratic simplicity was running into
+the ground. In our straining to be rid of all artificiality we were
+ousting art and beauty too. It was so in most parts of our awkward young
+nation; but especially did the materialistic tendency of this dreary
+disagreeable period manifest itself here in commercial New York, where
+Knickerbocker families were lopping the "Vans" off their names--to the
+amusement of contemporaneous aristocracy in older, more conservative
+sections of the country, and in some cases to the sincere regret of
+their present-day descendants.
+
+[Illustration: An Evening View of St. Paul's Church.]
+
+Now, the present-day descendants have, in some instances, restored the
+original spelling on their visiting cards; in other cases they have
+consoled themselves with hyphens, and most of them, it is safe to say,
+are bravely recovering from the tendency to over-simplicity. But the
+present-day city corporation of Greater New York could not, if it so
+desired, put a Richmond Hill back where it formerly stood, southwest of
+Washington Square and skirted by Minetta River--any more than it can
+bring to life Aaron Burr and the other historical personages who at
+various times occupied the hospitable villa which stood on the top of it
+and which is also gone to dust. They cannot restore the Collect Pond,
+which was filled up at such great expense, and covered by the Tombs
+prison and which, it is held by those who ought to know, would have
+made an admirable centre of a fine park much needed in that section, as
+the city has since learned. They cannot re-establish Love Lane, which
+used to lead from the popular Bloomingdale road (Broadway), nearly
+through the site of the building where this book is published, and so
+westward to Chelsea village.
+
+They wanted to be very practical, those commissioners of 1807. They
+prided themselves upon it. Naturally they did not fancy eccentricities
+of landscape and could not tolerate sentimental names. "Love Lane? What
+nonsense," said these extremely dignified and quite humorless officials;
+"this is to be Twenty-first Street." They wanted to be very practical,
+and so it seems the greater pity that with several years of dignified
+deliberation they were so unpractical as to make that notorious mistake
+of providing posterity with such a paucity of thoroughfares in the
+directions in which most of the traffic was bound to flow--that is, up
+and down, as practical men might have foreseen, and of running thick
+ranks of straight streets, as numerously as possible, across the narrow
+island from river to river, where but few were needed; thus causing
+the north and south thoroughfares, which they have dubbed avenues, to
+be swamped with heterogeneous traffic, complicating the problem for
+later-day rapid transit, giving future generations another cause for
+criticism, and furnishing a set of cross streets the like of which
+cannot be found in any other city of the world.
+
+
+[Illustration: The sights and smells of the water-front are here too.]
+
+I
+
+These are the streets which visitors to New York always remark; the
+characteristic cross streets of the typical up-town region of long
+regular rows of rectangular residences that look so much alike, with
+steep similar steps leading up to sombre similar doors and a doctor's
+sign in every other window. Bleak, barren, echoing streets where
+during the long, monotonous mornings "rags-an-bot'l" are called for,
+and bananas and strawberries are sold from wagons by aid of resonant
+voices, and nothing else is heard except at long intervals the welcome
+postman's whistle or the occasional slamming of a carriage door.
+Meantime the sun gets around to the north side of the street, and the
+airing of babies and fox-terriers goes on, while down at the corner
+one elevated train after another approaches, roars, and rumbles away
+in the distance all day long until at last the men begin coming home
+from business. These are the ordinary unromantic streets on which live
+so few New Yorkers in fiction (it is so easy to put them on the Avenue
+or Gramercy Park or Washington Square), but on which most of them seem
+to live in real life. A slice of all New York with all its layers of
+society and all its mixed interests may be seen in a walk along one of
+these typical streets which stretch across the island as straight and
+stiff as iron grooves and waste not an inch in their progress from one
+river, out into which they have gradually encroached, to the other river
+into which also they extend. It is a short walk, the island is so narrow.
+
+[Illustration: An Old Landmark on the Lower West Side.
+
+(Junction of Canal and Laight Streets.)]
+
+Away over on the ragged eastern edge of the city it starts, out of
+a ferry-house or else upon the abrupt water-front with river waves
+slapping against the solid bulwark. Here are open, free sky, wide
+horizon, the smell of the water, or else of the neighboring gas-house,
+brisk breezes and sea-gulls flapping lazily. The street's progress
+begins between an open lot where rival gangs of East Side boys meet to
+fight, on one side, and, on the other, a great roomy lumber-yard, with
+a very small brick building for an office. A dingy saloon, of course,
+stands on the corner of the first so-called avenue. Away over here the
+avenues have letters instead of numbers for names. Across the way--and
+it is easily crossed, for on some of these remote thoroughfares the
+traffic is so scarce that occasional blades of grass come up between the
+cobble-stones--is a weather-boarded and weather-beaten old house of sad
+mien, whose curtainless gable windows stare and stare out toward the
+river, thinking of other days.... Some warehouses and a factory or two
+are usually along here, with buzz-saws snarling; then another lettered
+avenue or two and the first of the elevated railroads roars overhead.
+This is now several blocks nearer the splendor of Fifth Avenue, but the
+neighborhood does not look it, for here is the thick of the tenement
+district, with dingy fire-escapes above, and below in the street,
+bumping against everyone, thousands of city children, each of them with
+at least one lung. The traffic is more crowded now, the street darker,
+the air not so good. Above are numerous windows showing the subdivisions
+where many families live--very comfortably and happily in numerous
+cases; you could not induce them to move into the sunshine and open of
+the country. Here, on the ground floor of the flat, is a grocery with
+sickening fruit out in front; on one side of it a doctor's sign, on the
+other an undertaker's. The window shows a three-foot coffin lined with
+soiled white satin, much admired by the wise-eyed little girls.
+
+[Illustration: Up Beekman Street. Each ... has to change in the greatest
+possible hurry from block to block.]
+
+As each of these succeeding avenues is crossed, with its rush and
+roar of up-town and down-town traffic, the neighborhood is said to
+be more "respectable," meaning more expensive; more of the women
+on the sidewalks wear hats and paint, and there are fewer children
+without shoes; private houses are becoming more frequent; babies less
+frequent; there is more pretence and less spontaneity. The flats are
+now apartments; they have ornate, hideous entrances, which add only
+to the rent.... So on until here is Madison Avenue and a whole block
+of private houses, varied only by an occasional stable, pleasant,
+clean-looking little stables, preferable architecturally to the houses
+in some cases. And here at last is Fifth Avenue; and it seems miles
+away from the tenements, sparkling, gay, happy or pretending to be,
+with streams of carefully dressed people flowing in both directions;
+New York's wonderful women, New York's well-built, tight-collared young
+men; shining carriages with good-looking horses and well-kept harness,
+mixed with big, dirty trucks whose drivers seem unconscious of the
+incongruity, but quite well aware of their own superior bumping ability.
+Dodging in and out miraculously are a few bicycles.... And now when the
+other side of the avenue is reached the rest is an anti-climax. Here
+is the trades-people's entrance to the great impressive house on the
+corner, so near that other entrance on the avenue, but so far that it
+will never be reached by that white-aproned butcher-boy's family--in
+this generation, at least. Beyond the conservatory is a bit of backyard,
+a pathetic little New York yard, but very green and cheerful, bounded
+at the rear by a high peremptory wall which seems to keep the ambitious
+brownstone next door from elbowing its way up toward the avenue.
+
+[Illustration: Under the Approach to Brooklyn Bridge.]
+
+These next houses, however, are quite fine and impressive, too, and
+they are not so alike as they seem at first; in fact, it is quite
+remarkable how much individuality architects have learned of late years
+to put into the eighteen or twenty feet they have to deal with. The
+monotony is varied occasionally with an English basement house or a tall
+wrought-iron gateway and a hood over the entrance. Here is a white
+Colonial doorway with side-lights. The son of the house studied art,
+perhaps, and persuaded his father to make this kind of improvement,
+though the old gentleman was inclined to copy the rococo style of the
+railroad president opposite.... Half-way down the block, unless a
+wedding or a tea is taking place, the street is as quiet as Wall Street
+on a Sunday. Behind us can be seen the streams of people flowing up and
+down Fifth Avenue.
+
+By the time Sixth Avenue is crossed brick frequently come into use in
+place of brownstone, and there are not only doctors' signs now, but
+"Robes et Manteaux" are announced, or sometimes, as on that ugly iron
+balcony, merely Madame somebody. By this time also there have already
+appeared on some of the newel-posts by the door-bell, "Boarders,"
+or "Furnished Rooms"--modestly written on a mere slip of paper, as
+though it had been deemed unnecessary to shout the words out for the
+neighborhood to hear. In there, back of these lace-curtains, yellow,
+though not with age, is the parlor--the boarding-house parlor--with
+tidies which always come off and small gilt chairs which generally
+break, and wax wreaths under glass, like cheeses under fly-screens in
+country groceries. In the place of honor hangs the crayon portrait of
+the dear deceased, in an ornate frame. But most of the boarders never go
+there, except to pay their bills; down in the basement dining-room is
+where they congregate, you can see them now through the grated window,
+at the tables. Here, on the corner, is the little tailor-shop or
+laundry, which is usually found in the low building back of that facing
+the avenue, which latter is always a saloon unless it is a drug-store;
+on the opposite corner is still another saloon--rivals very likely in
+the Tammany district as well as in business, with a policy-shop or a
+pool-room on the floor above, as all the neighbors know, though the
+local good government club cannot stop it. Here is the "family entrance"
+which no family ever enters.
+
+[Illustration: Chinatown.]
+
+Then come more apartments and more private residences, not invariably
+_passé_, more boarding-houses, many, many boarding-houses, theatrical
+boarding-houses, students' boarding-houses, foreign boarding-houses;
+more small business places, and so on across various mongrel avenues
+until here is the region of warehouses and piano factories and finally
+even railway tracks with large astonishing trains of cars. Cross these
+tracks and you are beyond the city, in the suburbs, as much as the
+lateral edges of this city can have suburbs; yet this is only the
+distance of a long golf-hole from residences and urbanity. Here are
+stock-yards with squealing pigs, awful smells, deep, black mire, and
+then a long dock reaching far out into the Hudson, with lazy river
+barges flopping along-side it, and dock-rats fishing off the end--a hot,
+hateful walk if ever your business or pleasure calls you out there of a
+summer afternoon. There the typical up-town cross street ends its dreary
+existence.
+
+
+II
+
+Down-town it is so different.
+
+Down-town--"'way down-town," in the vernacular--in latitude far south
+of homes and peace and contemplation, where everything is business
+and dollars and hardness, and the streets might well be economically
+straight, and rigorously business-like, they are incongruously crooked,
+running hither and thither in a dreamy, unpractical manner, beginning
+where they please and ending where it suits them best, in a narrow,
+Old-World way, despite their astonishing, New-World architecture.
+Numbers would do well enough for names down here, but instead of concise
+and business-like street-signs, the lamp-posts show quaint, incongruous
+names, sentimental names, poetic names sometimes, because these streets
+were born and not made.
+
+[Illustration: It still remains whimsically individual and village-like.]
+
+They were born of the needs or whims of the early population, including
+cows, long before the little western city became self-conscious about
+its incipient greatness, and ordered a ready-made plan for its future
+growth. It was too late for the painstaking commissioners down here. One
+little settlement of houses had gradually reached out toward another,
+each with its own line of streets or paths, until finally they all
+grew together solidly into a city, not caring whether they dovetailed
+or not, and one or the other or both of the old road names stuck fast.
+The Beaver's Path, leading from the Parade (which afterward became
+the Bowling Green) over to the swampy inlet which by drainage became
+the sheep pasture and later was named Broad Street, is still called
+Beaver Street to this day. The Maiden Lane, where New York girls used
+to stroll (and in still more primitive times used to do the washing)
+along-side the stream which gave the street its present winding shape
+and low grading, is still called Maiden Lane, though probably the only
+strollers in the modern jostling crowd along this street, now the
+heart of the diamond district, are the special detectives who have a
+personal acquaintance with every distinguished jewellery crook in the
+country, and guard "the Lane," as they call it, so carefully that not
+in fifteen years has a member of the profession crossed the "dead-line"
+successfully. There is Bridge Street, which no longer has any stream to
+bridge; Dock Street, where there is no dock; Water Street, once upon
+the river-front but now separated from the water by several blocks and
+much enormously valuable real estate; and Wall Street, which now seems
+to lack the wooden wall by which Governor Stuyvesant sought to keep New
+Englanders out of town. His efforts were of no permanent value.
+
+[Illustration: A Fourteenth Street Tree.]
+
+Nowadays they seem such narrow, crowded little runways, these down-town
+cross streets; so crowded that men and horses share the middle of them
+together; so narrow that from the windy tops of the irregular white
+cliffs which line them you must lean far over in order to see the busy
+little men at the dry asphalt bottom, far below, rapidly crawling
+hither and thither like excitable ants whose hill has been disturbed.
+And in modern times they seem dark and gloomy, near the bottom, even
+in the clear, smokeless air of Manhattan, so that lights are turned on
+sometimes at mid-day, for at best the sun gets into these valleys for
+only a few minutes, so high have the tall buildings grown. But they
+were not narrow in those old days of the Dutch; seemed quite the right
+width, no doubt, to gossip across, from one Dutch stoop to another, at
+close of day, with the after-supper pipe when the chickens and children
+had gone to sleep and there was nothing to interrupt the peaceful,
+puffing conversation except the lazy clattering bell of an occasional
+cow coming home late for milking. Nor were they gloomy in those days,
+for the sun found its way unobstructed for hours at a time, when they
+were lined with small low-storied houses which the family occupied
+upstairs, with business below. Everyone went home for luncheon in those
+days--a pleasant, simple system adhered to in this city, it is said,
+until comparatively recent times by more than one family whose present
+representatives require for their happiness two or three homes in
+various other parts of the world in addition to their town house. This
+latter does not contain a shop on the ground floor. It is situated far
+up the island, at some point beyond the marsh where their forebears went
+duck-shooting (now Washington Square), or in some cases even beyond
+the site of the second kissing bridge, over which the Boston Post road
+crossed the small stream where Seventy-seventh Street now runs.
+
+[Illustration: Such as broad Twenty-third Street with its famous shops.]
+
+Now, being such a narrow island, none of its cross streets can be very
+long, as was pointed out, even at the city's greatest breadth. The
+highest cross-street number I ever found was 742 East Twelfth. But
+these down-town cross streets are much shorter, even those that succeed
+in getting all the way across without stopping; they are so abruptly
+short that each little street has to change in the greatest possible
+hurry from block to block, like vaudeville performers, in order to show
+all the features of a self-respecting cross street in the business
+section. Hence the sudden contrasts. For instance, down at one end of
+a certain well-known business street may be seen some low houses of
+sturdy red brick, beginning to look antique now with their solid walls
+and visible roofs. They line an open, sunny spot, with the smell of
+spices and coffee in the air. A market was situated here over a hundred
+years ago, and this broad, open space still has the atmosphere of a
+marketplace. The sights and smells of the water-front are here, too,
+ships and stevedores unloading them, sailors lounging before dingy
+drinking-places, and across the cobble-stones is a ferry-house, with
+"truck" wagons on the way back to Long Island waiting for the gates
+to open, the unmistakable country mud, so different from city mire,
+still sticking in cakes to the spokes, notwithstanding the night spent
+in town. Nothing worth remarking, perhaps, in all this, but that the
+name of the street is Wall Street, and all this seems so different
+from the Wall Street of a stone's-throw inland, with crowded walks,
+dapper business men, creased trousers, tall, steel buildings, express
+elevators, messengers dashing in and out, tickers busy, and all the
+hum and suppressed excitement of the Wall Street the world knows, as
+different and as suddenly different as the change that is felt in
+the very air upon stepping across through the noise and shabby rush
+of lower Sixth Avenue into the enchanted peace of Greenwich village,
+with sparrows chirping in the wistaria vines that cover old-fashioned
+balconies on streets slanting at unexpected angles.
+
+[Illustration: A Cross Street at Madison Square.]
+
+[Illustration: Across Twenty-fourth Street--Madison Square when the
+Dewey Arch was there.]
+
+The typical part of these down-town cross streets is, of course, that
+latter part, the section more or less near Broadway, and crowded to
+suffocation with great businesses in great buildings, commonly known as
+hideous American sky-scrapers. This is the real down-town to most of the
+men who are down there, and who are too busy thinking about what these
+streets mean to each of them to-day to bother much with what the streets
+were in the past, or even to notice how the modern tangle of spars and
+rigging looks as seen down at the end of the street from the office
+window.
+
+Of course, all these men in the tall buildings, whether possessed
+of creative genius or of intelligence enough only to run one of the
+elevators, are alike Philistines to those persons who find nothing
+romantic or interesting in our modern, much-maligned sky-scrapers,
+which have also been called "monuments of modern materialism," and even
+worse names, no doubt, because they are unprecedented and unacademic,
+probably, as much as because ugly and unrestrained. To many of us,
+however, shameless as it may be to confess it, these down-town streets
+are fascinating enough for what they are to-day, even if they had no
+past to make them all the more charming; and these erect, jubilant young
+buildings, whether beautiful or not, seem quite interesting--from their
+bright tops, where, far above the turmoil and confusion, Mrs. Janitor
+sits sewing in the sun while the children play hide-and-seek behind
+water-butts and air-shafts (there is no danger of falling off, it is a
+relief to know, because the roof is walled in like a garden), down to
+the dark bottom where are the safe-deposit vaults, and the trusty old
+watchmen, and the oblong boxes with great fortunes in them, along-side
+of wills that may cause family fights a few years later, and add to
+the affluence of certain lawyers in the offices overhead. Deep down,
+thirty or forty feet under the crowded sidewalk, the stokers shovel
+coal under big boilers all day, and electricians do interesting tricks
+with switchboards, somewhat as in the hold of a modern battle-ship.
+In the many tiers of floors overhead are the men with the minds that
+make these high buildings necessary and make down-town what it is, with
+their dreams and schemes, their courage and imagination, their trust and
+distrust in the knowledge and ignorance of other human beings which are
+the means by which they bring about great successes and great failures,
+and have all the fun of playing a game, with the peace of conscience
+and self-satisfaction which come from hard work and manly sweat.
+
+Here during daylight, or part of it, they are moving about, far up
+on high or down near the teeming surface, in and out of the numerous
+subdivisions termed offices, until finally they call the game off for
+the day, go down in the express elevator, out upon the narrow little
+streets, and turn north toward the upper part of the island. And each,
+like a homing pigeon, finds his own division or subdivision in a long,
+solid block of divisions called homes, in the part of town where run the
+many rows of even, similar streets.
+
+
+III
+
+These two views across two parts of New York, the two most typical
+parts, deal chiefly with what a stranger might see and feel, who came
+and looked and departed. Very little has been said to show what the
+cross-streets mean to those who are in the town and of it, who know the
+town and like it--either because their "father's father's father" did,
+or else because their work or fate has cast them upon this island and
+kept them there until it no longer seems a desert island. The latter
+class, indeed, when once they have learned to love the town of their
+adoption, frequently become its warmest enthusiasts, even though they
+may have held at one time that city contentedness could not be had
+without the symmetry, softness, and repose of older civilizations,
+or even that true happiness was impossible when walled in by stone and
+steel from the sight and smell of green fields and running brooks.
+
+[Illustration: Herald Square.]
+
+He who loves New York loves its streets for what they have been and are
+to him, not for what they may seem to those who do not use them. They
+who know the town best become as homesick when away from it for the
+straightness of the well-kept streets up-town as for the crookedness
+and quaintness of the noisy thoroughfares below. The straightness, they
+point out complacently, is very convenient for getting about, just as
+the numbering system makes it easy for strangers. On the walk up-town
+they enjoy looking down upon the expected unexpectedness of the odd
+little cross streets, which twist and turn or end suddenly in blank
+walls, or are crossed by passageways in mid-air, like the Bridge of
+Sighs, down Franklin Street, from the Criminal Court-house to the Tombs.
+But farther along in their walk they are just as fond of looking down
+the perspective of the straight side streets from the central spine of
+Fifth Avenue past block after block of New York homes, away down beyond
+the almost-converging rows of even lamp-posts to the Hudson and the
+purple Palisades of Jersey, with the glorious gleam and glow of the
+sunset; while the energetic "L" trains scurry past, one after another,
+trailing beautiful swirls of steam and carrying other New Yorkers to
+other homes. None of this could be enjoyed if the cross streets tied
+knots in themselves like those in London and some American cities. Even
+outsiders appreciate these characteristic New York vistas; and nearly
+every poet who comes to town discovers its symbolic incongruity afresh
+and sings it to those who have enjoyed it before he was born, just as
+most young writers of prose feel called upon to turn their attention the
+other way and unearth the great East Side of New York.
+
+[Illustration: As it Looks on a Wet Night--The Circle, Fifty-ninth
+Street and Eighth Avenue.]
+
+There is no such thing as a typical cross street to New Yorkers.
+Individually, each thoroughfare departs as widely from the type as the
+men who walk along them differ from the figure known in certain parts of
+this country as the typical New Yorker. In New York there is no typical
+New Yorker. These so-called similar streets, which look so much alike
+to a visitor driving up Fifth Avenue, end so very differently. Some of
+them, for instance, after beginning their decline toward the river and
+oblivion, are redeemed to respectability, not to say exclusiveness,
+again, like some of the streets in the small Twentieths running out
+into what was formerly the village of Chelsea; and those who know New
+York--even when standing where the Twentieth Streets are tainted with
+Sixth Avenue--are cognizant of this fact, just as they are of the peace
+and green campus and academic architecture of the Episcopal Theological
+Seminary away over there, and of the thirty-foot lawns of London
+Terrace, far down along West Twenty-third Street.
+
+There are other residence streets which do not decline at all, but are
+solidly impressive and expensive all the way over to the river, like
+those from Central Park to Riverside Drive. And your old New Yorker
+does not feel depressed by their conventional similarity, their lack
+of individuality; he likes to think that these streets and houses no
+longer seem so unbearably new as they were only a short time ago, but
+in some cases are at last acquiring the atmosphere of home and getting
+rid of the odor of a real-estate project. Then, of course, so many cross
+streets would refuse to be classed as typical because they run through
+squares or parks, or into reservoirs or other streets, or jump over
+railroad tracks by means of viaducts, burrow under avenues by means of
+tunnels, or end abruptly at the top of a hill on a high embankment of
+interesting masonry, as at the eastern terminus of Forty-first Street--a
+spot which never feels like New York at all to me.
+
+[Illustration: Hideous high buildings.
+
+Looking east from Central Park at night.]
+
+Some notice should be taken also of those all-important up-town cross
+streets where business has eaten out residence in streaks, as moths
+devour clothes, such as broad Twenty-third Street with its famous
+shops, and narrow Twenty-eighth Street, with its numerous cheap _table
+d'hôtes_, each of which is the best in town; and 125th Street, which is
+a Harlem combination of both. These are the streets by which surface-car
+passengers are transferred all over the city. These are the streets
+upon which those who have grown up with New York, if they have paid
+attention to its growth as well as their own, delight to meditate.
+Even comparatively young old New Yorkers can say "I remember when" of
+memorable evenings in the old Academy of Music in Fourteenth Street off
+Union Square, and of the days when Delmonico's had got as far up-town as
+Fourteenth Street and Fifth Avenue.
+
+Furthermore, it could easily be shown that, for those who love old New
+York, there is plenty of local historical association along these same
+straight, unromantic-looking cross streets--for those who know how to
+find it. For that matter one might go still further and hold that there
+would not be so much antiquarian delight in New York if these streets
+were not new and straight and non-committal looking. If, for instance,
+the old Union Road, which was the roundabout, wet-weather route to
+Greenwich village, had not been cut up and mangled by a merciless city
+plan there wouldn't be the fun of tracing it by projecting corners
+and odd angles of houses along West Twelfth Street between Fifth and
+Sixth Avenues. It would be merely an open, ordinary street, concealing
+nothing, and no more exciting to follow than Pearl Street down-town--and
+not half so crooked or historical as Pearl Street. There would not be
+that odd, pocket-like courtway called Mulligan "Place," with a dimly
+lighted entrance leading off Sixth Avenue between Tenth and Eleventh
+Streets. Nor would there be that still more interesting triangular
+remnant of an old Jewish burying-ground over the way, behind the old
+Grapevine Tavern. For either the whole cemetery would have been allowed
+to remain on Union Road (or Street), which is not likely, or else they
+would have removed all the graves and covered the entire site with
+buildings, as was the case with a dozen other burying-grounds here and
+there. If the commissioners had not had their way we could not have all
+those inner rows of houses to explore, like the "Weaver's Row," once
+near the Great Kiln Road, but now buried behind a Sixth Avenue store
+between Sixteenth and Seventeenth Streets, and entered, if entered at
+all, by way of a dark, ill-smelling alley. Nor would the negro quarter,
+a little farther up-town, have its inner rows which seem so appropriate
+for negro quarters, especially the whitewashed courts opening off
+Thirtieth Street, where may be found, in these secluded spots, trees and
+seats under them, with old, turbanned mammies smoking pipes and looking
+much more like Richmond darkies than those one expects to see two blocks
+from Daly's Theatre. Colonel Carter of Cartersville could not have
+found such an interesting New York residence if the commissioners had
+not had their way, nor could he have entered it by a tunnel-like passage
+under the house opposite the Tenth Street studios. Even Greenwich would
+not be quite so entertaining without those permanent marks of the
+conflict between village and city which resulted in separating West
+Eleventh Street so far from Tenth, and in twisting Fourth Street around
+farther and farther until it finally ends in despair in Thirteenth
+Street. If the commissioners had not had their way we should have had no
+"Down Love Lane" written by Mr. Janvier.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Looked at from the point of view of use and knowledge, every street,
+like every person, gains a distinct personality, some being merely more
+strongly distinguished than others. And just as every human being,
+whatever his name or his looks may be, continues to win more or less
+sympathy the more you know of him and his history and his ambitions, so
+with these streets, and their checkered careers, their sudden changes
+from decade to decade--or in still less time, in our American cities,
+their transformation from farm land to suburban road, and then to
+fashionable city street, and then to small business and then to great
+business. Such, after all, is the stuff of which abiding city charm is
+made, not of plans and architecture.
+
+
+
+
+RURAL NEW YORK CITY
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+RURAL NEW YORK CITY
+
+
+There is pretty good snipe shooting within the city limits of New York,
+and I have heard that an occasional trout still rises to the fly in one
+or two spots along a certain stream--which need not be made better known
+than it is already, though it can hardly be worth whipping much longer
+at any rate.
+
+A great many ducks, however, are still shot every season in the city,
+by those who know where to go for them; and as for inferior sport,
+like rabbits--if you include them as game--on certain days of the year
+probably more gunners and dogs are out after rabbits within the limits
+of Greater New York than in any region of equal extent in the world,
+though to be sure the bags brought in hardly compare with those of
+certain parts of Australia or some of our Western States. Down toward
+Far Rockaway, a little this side of the salt marshes of Jamaica Bay, in
+the hedges and cabbage-patches of the "truck" farms, there is plenty of
+good cover for rabbits, as well as in the brush-piles and pastures of
+the rolling Borough of Richmond on Staten Island, and the forests and
+stone fences of the hilly Bronx, up around Pelham Bay Park for instance.
+But the gunners must keep out of the parks, of course, though many
+ubiquitous little boys with snares do not.
+
+In such parts of the city, except when No Trespassing signs prevent,
+on any day of the open season scores of men and youths may be seen
+whose work and homes are generally in the densest parts of the city,
+respectable citizens from the extreme east and west sides of Manhattan,
+artisans and clerks, salesmen and small shopkeepers, who, quite
+unexpectedly in some cases, share the ancient fret and longing of the
+primitive man in common with those other New Yorkers who can go farther
+out on Long Island or farther up into New York State to satisfy it. To
+be sure, the former do not get as many shots as the latter, but they get
+the outdoors and the exercise and the return to nature, which is the
+main thing. And the advantage of going shooting in Greater New York is
+that you can tramp until too dark to see, and yet get back in time to
+dine at home, thus satisfying an appetite acquired in the open with a
+dinner cooked in the city.
+
+[Illustration: Flushing Volunteer Fire Department Responding to a Fire
+Alarm.]
+
+Once a certain young family went off to a far corner of Greater New York
+to attack the perennial summer problem. By walking through a hideously
+suburban village with a beautifully rural name they found, just over the
+brow of a hill, quite as a friend had told them they would, tucked
+away all alone in a green glade beside an ancient forest, a charming
+little diamond-paned, lattice-windowed cottage, covered thick with vines
+outside, and yet supplied with modern plumbing within. It seemed too
+good to be true. There was no distinctly front yard or back yard, not
+even a public road in sight, and no neighbors to bother them except the
+landlord, who lived in the one house near by and was very agreeable. All
+through the close season they enjoyed the whistling of quail at their
+breakfast; in their afternoon walks, squirrels and rabbits and uncommon
+song-birds were too common to be remarked; and once, within forty yards
+of the house, great consternation was caused by a black snake, though it
+was not black snakes but mosquitoes that made them look elsewhere next
+year, and taught them a life-lesson in regard to English lattice-windows
+and American mosquito-screens.
+
+But until the mosquitoes became so persistent it seemed--this
+country-place within a city, or _rus in urbe_, as they probably enjoyed
+calling it--an almost perfect solution of the problem for a small family
+whose head had to be within commuting distance of down-town. For though
+so remote, it was not inaccessible; two railroads and a trolley line
+were just over the dip of the hill that hid them, so that there was time
+for the young man of the house to linger with his family at breakfast,
+which was served out-of-doors, with no more objectionable witnesses
+than the thrushes in the hedges. And then, too, there was time to get
+exercise in the afternoon before dinner. "It seemed an ideal spot," to
+quote their account of it, "except that on our walks, just as we thought
+that we had found some sequestered dell where nobody had come since the
+Indians left, we would be pretty sure to hear a slight rustle behind us,
+and there--not an Indian but a Tammany policeman would break through the
+thicket, with startling white gloves and gleaming brass buttons, looking
+exactly like the policemen in the Park. Of course he would continue on
+his beat and disappear in a moment, but by that time we had forgotten to
+listen to the birds and things, and the distant hum of the trolley would
+break in and remind us of all things we have wanted to forget."
+
+[Illustration: A Bit of Farm Land in the Heart of Greater New York.
+
+"Acre after acre, farm after farm, and never a sign of city in sight."]
+
+
+I
+
+In a way, that is rather typical of most of the rurality found within
+the boundaries of these modern aggregations or trusts of large and
+small towns, and intervening country, held together (more or less)
+by one name, under one municipal government, and called a "city" by
+legislature. There is plenty that is not at all city-like within the
+city walls--called limits--there is plenty of nature, but in most cases
+those wanting to commune with it are reminded that it is no longer
+within the domain of nature. The city has stretched out its hand, and
+the mark of the beast can usually be seen.
+
+You can find not only rural seclusion and bucolic simplicity, but the
+rudeness and crudeness of the wilderness and primeval forest; indeed,
+even forest fires have been known in Greater New York. But the trouble
+is that so often the bucolic simplicity has cleverly advertised lots
+staked out across it; the rural seclusion shows a couple of factory
+chimneys on the near horizon. The forest fire was put out by the fire
+department.
+
+There are numerous peaceful duck-ponds in the Borough of Queens, for
+instance, as muddy and peaceful as ever you saw, but so many of them are
+lighted by gas every evening. Besides the fisheries, there is profitable
+oyster-dredging in several sections of this city; and in at least one
+place it can be seen by electric light. There are many potato-patches
+patrolled by the police.
+
+[Illustration: One of the Farmhouses that Have Come to Town.
+
+The old Duryea House, Flushing, once used as a head-quarters for Hessian
+officers.]
+
+Not far from the geographical centre of the city there are fields where,
+as all who have ever commuted to and from the north shore of Long Island
+must remember, German women may be seen every day in the tilling season,
+working away as industriously as the peasants of Europe, blue skirts,
+red handkerchiefs about their heads, and all: while not far away, at
+frequent intervals, passes a whining, thumping trolley-car, marked
+Brooklyn Bridge.
+
+[Illustration: East End of Duryea House, where the Cow is Stabled.]
+
+In another quarter, on a dreary, desolate waste, neither farm land,
+nor city, nor village, there stands an old weather-beaten hut, long,
+low, patched up and tumbled down, with an old soap-box for a front
+doorstep--all beautifully toned by time, the kind amateurs like to
+sketch, when found far away from home in their travels. The thing that
+recalls the city in this case, rather startlingly, is a rudely lettered
+sign, with the S's turned the wrong way, offering lots for sale in
+Greater New York.
+
+It is not necessary to go far away from the beaten paths of travel in
+Greater New York to witness any of these scenes of the comedy, sometimes
+tragedy, brought about by the contending forces of city and country.
+Most of what has been cited can be observed from car-windows. For
+that matter, somewhat similar incongruity can be found in all of our
+modern, legally enlarged cities, London, with the hedges and gardens
+of Hampstead Heath, and certain parts of the Surrey Side, or Chicago,
+with its broad stretches of prairie and farms--the subject of so many
+American newspaper jokes a few years ago.
+
+[Illustration: The Old Water-power Mill from the Rear of the Old Country
+Cross-roads Store.]
+
+[Illustration: The Old Country Cross-roads Store, Established 1828.
+
+In the background is the old water-power mill.]
+
+[Illustration: Interior of the Old Country Cross-roads Store.]
+
+But New York--and this is another respect in which it is different from
+other cities--our great Greater New York, which is better known as
+having the most densely populated tenement districts in the world, can
+show places that are more truly rural than any other city of modern
+times, places where the town does not succeed in obtruding itself at
+all. From Hampstead Heath, green and delightful as it is, every now
+and then the gilded cross of St. Paul's may be seen gleaming far below
+through the trees. And in Chicago, bucolic as certain sections of it
+may be, one can spy the towers of the city for miles away, across the
+prairie; even when down in certain wild, murderous-looking ravines there
+is ever on high the appalling cloud of soft-coal smoke. But out in the
+broad, rolling farm lands of Long Island you can walk on for hours and
+not find any sign of the city you are in, except the enormous tax-rate,
+which, by the way, has the effect of discouraging the farmers (many of
+whom did not want to become city people at all) from spending money for
+paint and improvements, and this only results in making the country
+look more primitive, and less like what is absurdly called a city.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: The Colony of Chinese Farmers, Near the Geographical
+Centre of New York City.]
+
+But the best of these rural parts of town cannot be spied from
+car-windows, or the beaten paths of travel.
+
+
+II
+
+Make a journey out through the open country to the southeast of
+Flushing, past the Oakland Golf Club, and over toward the Creedmoor
+Rifle Range, after a while turn north and follow a twisting road that
+leads down into the ravine at the head of Little Neck Bay, where a few
+of the many Little Neck clams come from. All of these places are well
+within the eastern boundary of the city, and this little journey will
+furnish a very good example of a certain kind of rural New York, but
+only one kind, for it is only one small corner of a very big place.
+
+[Illustration: Working as industrially as the peasants of Europe, blue
+skirts, red handkerchiefs about their heads....]
+
+As soon as you have ridden, or walked--it is better to walk if there is
+plenty of time--beyond the fine elms of the ancient Flushing streets,
+you will be in as peaceful looking farming country as can be found
+anywhere. But the interesting thing about it is that here are seen not
+merely a few incongruous green patches that happen to be left between
+rapidly devouring suburban towns--like the fields near Woodside where
+the German women work--out here one rides through acre after acre of
+it, farm after farm, mile after mile, up hill, down hill, corn-fields,
+wheat-fields, stone fences, rail fences, no fences, and never a town in
+sight, much less anything to suggest the city, except the procession of
+market-wagons at certain hours, to or from College Point Ferry, and they
+aren't so conspicuously urban after all.
+
+[Illustration: Remains of a windmill in New York City, Between Astoria
+and Steinway.]
+
+Even the huge advertising sign-boards which usually shout to passers-by
+along the approaches to cities are rather scarce in this country,
+for it is about midway between two branches of the only railroad on
+Long Island, and there is no need for a trolley. There is nothing
+but country roads, with more or less comfortable farm-houses and
+large, squatty barns; not only old farm-houses, but what is much more
+striking, farm-houses that are new. Now, it does seem odd to build a new
+farm-house in a city.
+
+[Illustration: The Dreary Edge of Long Island City.]
+
+Out in the fields the men are ploughing. A rooster crows in the
+barn-yard. A woman comes out to take in the clothes. Children climb
+the fence to gaze when people pass by. And one can ride for a matter
+of miles and see no other kind of life, except the birds in the hedge
+and an occasional country dog, not suburban dogs, but distinctly farm
+dogs, the kind that have deep, ominous barks, as heard at night from
+a distance. By and by, down the dusty, sunny, lane-like road plods a
+fat old family Dobbin, pulling an old-fashioned phaëton in which are
+seated a couple of prim old maiden ladies, dressed in black, who try to
+make him move faster in the presence of strangers, and so push and jerk
+animatedly on the reins, which he enjoys catching with his tail, and
+holds serenely until beyond the bend in the road.
+
+[Illustration: The Procession of Market-wagons at College Point Ferry.]
+
+Of course, this is part of the city. The road map proves it. But there
+are very few places along this route where you can find it out in any
+other way. The road leads up over a sort of plateau; a wide expanse of
+country can be viewed in all directions, but there are only more fields
+to see, more farm-houses and squatty barns, perhaps a village church
+steeple in the distance, a village that has its oldest inhabitant and
+a church with a church-yard. Away off to the north, across a gleaming
+strip of water, which the map shows to be Long Island Sound, lie the
+blue hills of the Bronx. They, too, are well within Greater New York.
+So is all that country to the southwest, far beyond the range of the
+eye, Jamaica, and Jamaica Bay and Coney Island. And over there, more to
+the west, is dreary East New York and endless Brooklyn, and dirty Long
+Island City, and, still farther, crowded Manhattan Island itself. Then
+one realizes something of the extent of this strange manner of city. It
+is very ridiculous.
+
+[Illustration: Past dirty backyards and sad vacant lots.]
+
+When at last the head of Little Neck Bay is reached, here is another
+variety of primitive country scene. The upland road skirting the hill,
+beyond which the rifles of Creedmoor are crashing, takes a sudden turn
+down a steep grade, a guileless-looking grade, but very dangerous for
+bicyclists, especially in the fall when the ruts and rocks are covered
+thick with leaves for days at a time. Then, after passing a nearer view
+(through a vista of big trees) of the blue Sound, with the darker blue
+of the hills beyond, the road drops down into a peaceful old valley,
+tucked away as serene and unmolested as it was early in the nineteenth
+century, when the country cross-roads store down there was first built,
+along-side of the water-power mill, which is somewhat older. In front
+is an old dam and mill-pond, called "The Alley," recently improved,
+but still containing black bass; in the rear Little Neck Bay opens out
+to the Sound beyond, one of the sniping and ducking places of Greater
+New York. The old store, presumably the polling-place of that election
+district of the city, is where prominent personages of the neighborhood
+congregate and tell fishing and shooting stories, and gossip, and talk
+politics, seated on boxes and barrels around the white-bodied stove, for
+the sake of which they chew tobacco.
+
+It is one of those stores that contain everything--from anchor-chains to
+chewing-gum. There are bicycle sundries in the show-case and boneless
+bacon suspended from the old rafters, but the best thing in the place
+is a stream of running water. This is led down by a pipe from the side
+of the hill, acts as a refrigerator for a sort of bar in one corner of
+the store--for this establishment sells a greater variety of commodities
+than most department stores--and passes out into Long Island Sound in
+the rear.
+
+The fact that they are in Greater New York does not seem to bother them
+much down in this happy valley, at least it hasn't changed their mode of
+life apparently. The last time we were there a well-tanned Long Islander
+was buying some duck loads; he said he was merely going out after a few
+snipe, but he ordered No. 5's.
+
+[Illustration: New York City Up in the Beginnings of the Bronx
+Regions--Skating at Bronxdale.]
+
+"Have you a policeman out here?" we asked him.
+
+"Oh, yes, but he doesn't come around very often."
+
+"How often?"
+
+"Oh, I generally catch a glimpse of him once a month or so," said the
+gunner. "But then, you see, these here city policemen have to be pretty
+careful, they're likely to get lost."
+
+"Down near Bay Ridge," a man on the cracker-barrel put in as he
+stroked the store-cat, "one night a policeman got off his beat and
+floundered into the swamp, and if it hadn't been that some folks of the
+neighborhood rescued him, he'd have perished--of mosquitoes."
+
+"We don't have any mosquitoes here on the north shore," put in the
+other, addressing us without blinking. He is probably the humorist of
+the neighborhood.
+
+ * * * * *
+
+This is only one of the many pilgrimages that may be made in Greater New
+York, and shows only one sort of rurality. It is the great variety of
+unurban scenes that is the most impressive thing about this city. Here
+is another sort, seen along certain parts of Jamaica Bay:
+
+Long, level sweeps of flat land, covered with tall, wild grass that
+the sea-breezes like to race across. The plain is intersected here and
+there with streams of tide-water. At rare intervals there are lonely
+little clumps of scrub-oaks, huddled close together for comfort. Away
+off in the distance the yellow sand-dunes loom up as big as mountains,
+and beyond is the deep, thrilling blue of the open sea, with sharp-cut
+horizon.
+
+The sun comes up, the wonderful color tricks of the early morning are
+exhibited, and the morning flight of birds begins. The tide comes
+hurrying in, soon hiding the mud flats where the snipe were feeding.
+The breeze freshens up, and whitecaps, like specks, can be seen on the
+distant blue band of the ocean.... The sun gets hot. The tide turns.
+The estuaries begin to show their mud-banks again. The sun sinks lower;
+and distant inlets reflect it brilliantly. The birds come back, the
+breeze dies down, and the sun sets splendidly across the long, flat
+plain; another day has passed over this part of a so-called city and no
+man has been within a mile of the spot. The nearest sign of habitation
+is the lonely life-saving station away over there on the dunes, and,
+perhaps, a fisherman's shanty. Far out on the sky-line is the smoke of a
+home-coming steamer, whose approach has already been announced from Fire
+Island, forty miles down the coast.
+
+[Illustration: Another Kind of City Life--Along the Marshes of Jamaica
+Bay.]
+
+Then, here is another sort: A rambling, stony road, occasionally passing
+comfortable old houses--historic houses in some cases--with trees and
+lawns in front, leading down to stone walls that abut the road. The
+double-porticoed house where Aaron Burr died is not far from here. An
+old-fashioned, stone-arched bridge, a church steeple around the bend, a
+cluster of trees, and under them, a blacksmith shop. Trudging up the
+hill is a little boy, who stares and sniffles, carrying a slate and
+geography in one hand, and leading a little sister by the other, who
+also sniffles and stares. This, too, is Greater New York, Borough of
+Richmond, better known as Staten Island. This borough has nearly all
+kinds of wild and tame rurality and suburbanity. Its farms need not be
+described.
+
+
+III
+
+Pointing out mere farms in the city becomes rather monotonous; they are
+too common. But there is one kind of farm in New York that is not at
+all common, that has never existed in any other city, so far as I know,
+in ancient or modern times. It is situated, oddly enough, in about the
+centre of the 317 square miles of New York--so well as the centre of a
+boot-shaped area can be located.
+
+[Illustration: There is profitable oyster-dredging in several sections
+of the city.]
+
+Cross Thirty-fourth Street Ferry to Long Island City, which really
+does not smell so bad as certain of our poets would have us believe;
+take the car marked "Steinway," and ride for fifteen or twenty minutes
+out through dreary city edge, past small, unpainted manufactories,
+squalid tenements, dirty backyards, and sad vacant lots that serve as
+the last resting-place for decayed trucks and overworked wagons. Soon
+after passing a tumble-down windmill, which looks like an historic old
+relic, on a hill-top, but which was built in 1867 and tumbled down
+only recently, the Steinway Silk Mills will be reached (they can be
+distinguished by the long, low wings of the building covered with
+windows like a hothouse). Leave the car here and strike off to the left,
+down the lane which will soon be an alley, and then a hundred yards or
+so from the highway will be seen the first of the odd, paper-covered
+houses of a colony of Chinese farmers who earn their living by tilling
+the soil of Greater New York.
+
+At short distances are the other huts crouching at the foot of big
+trees, with queer gourds hanging out in front to dry, and large unusual
+crocks lying about, and huge baskets, and mattings--all clearly
+from China; they are as different from what could be bought on the
+neighboring avenue as the farm and farmers themselves are different
+from most Long Island farms and farmers. Out in the fields, which are
+tilled in the Oriental way, utilizing every inch of ground clean up to
+the fence, and laid out with even divisions at regular intervals, like
+rice-fields, the farmers themselves may be seen, working with Chinese
+implements, their pigtails tucked up under their straw hats, while the
+western world wags on in its own way all around them. This is less than
+five miles from the glass-covered parade-ground of the Waldorf-Astoria.
+
+They have only three houses among them, that is, there are only three
+of these groups of rooms, made of old boards and boxes and covered with
+tar paper; but no one in the neighborhood seems to know just how many
+Chinamen live there. The same sleeping space would hold a score or more
+over in Pell Street.
+
+Being Chinamen, they grow only Chinese produce, a peculiar kind of bean
+and some sort of salad, and those large, artistic shaped melons, seen
+only in China or Chinatown, which they call something that sounds like
+"moncha," and which, one of them told me, bring two cents a pound from
+the Chinese merchants and restaurateurs of Manhattan. For my part, I
+was very glad to learn of these farms, for I had always been perplexed
+to account for the fresh salads and green vegetables, of unmistakably
+Chinese origin, that can be found in season in New York's Chinatown.
+Under an old shed near by they have their market-wagon, in which,
+looking inscrutable, they drive their stuff to market through Long
+Island City, and by way of James Slip Ferry over to Chinatown; then back
+to the farm again, looking inscrutable. And on Sundays, for all we know,
+they leave the wagon behind and go to gamble their earnings away in Mott
+Street, or perhaps away over in some of the well-known places of Jersey
+City. Then back across the two ferries to farming on dreary Monday
+mornings.
+
+
+IV
+
+Even up in Manhattan there are still places astonishingly unlike what
+is expected of the crowded little island on which stands New York
+proper. There is Fort Washington with tall trees growing out of the
+Revolutionary breastworks, land, under their branches, a fine view up
+the Hudson to the mountains--a quiet, sequestered bit of public park
+which the public hasn't yet learned to treat as a park, though within
+sight of the crowds crossing the viaduct from the Grant Monument on
+Riverside. There are wild flowers up there every spring, and until quite
+recently so few people visited this spot for days at a time that there
+were sometimes woodcock and perhaps other game in the thickly wooded
+ravine by the railroad. Soon, however, the grass on the breastworks will
+be worn off entirely, and the aged deaf man who tends the river light on
+Jeffreys Hook will become sophisticated, if he is still alive.
+
+[Illustration: Cemetery Ridge, Near Richmond, Staten Island.]
+
+It will take longer, however, for the regions to the north, beyond
+Washington Heights, down through Inwood and past Tubby Hook, to look
+like part of a city. And across the Spuyten Duyvil Creek from Manhattan
+Island, up through the winding roads of Riverdale to Mount St. Vincent,
+and so across the line to Yonkers, it is still wooded, comparatively
+secluded and country-like, even though so many of the fine country
+places thereabouts are being deserted. Over to the eastward, across
+Broadway, a peaceful road which does not look like a part of the same
+thoroughfare as the one with actors and sky-scrapers upon it, there are
+the still wilder stretches of Mosholu and Van Cortlandt Park, where,
+a year or two ago, large, well-painted signs on the trees used to say
+"Beware of the Buffaloes."
+
+[Illustration: A Peaceful Scene in New York.
+
+In the distance is St. Andrew's Church, Borough of Richmond, Staten
+Island.]
+
+The open country sport of golf has had a good deal to do with making
+this rural park more generally appreciated. Golf has done for Van
+Cortlandt what the bicycle had done for the Bronx and Pelham Bay Parks.
+There are still natural, wild enough looking bits, off from the beaten
+paths, in all these parks, scenes that look delightfully dark and sylvan
+in the yearly thousands of amateur photographs--the camera does not
+show the German family approaching from the rear, or the egg-shells and
+broken beer-bottles behind the bushes--but beware of the police if you
+break a twig, or pick a blossom.
+
+
+V
+
+Those who enjoy the study of all the forms of nature except the highest
+can find plenty to sigh over in the way the city thrusts itself upon
+the country. But to those who think that the haunts and habits of the
+Man are not less worthy of observation than those of the Beaver and
+the Skunk, it is all rather interesting, and some of it not so deeply
+deplorable.
+
+[Illustration: A Relic of the Early Nineteenth Century, Borough of
+Richmond.]
+
+There are certain old country taverns, here and there, up toward
+Westchester, and down beyond Brooklyn and over on Staten Island--not
+only those which everybody knows, like the Hermitage in the Bronx and
+Garrisons over by the fort at Willets Point, but remote ones which have
+not yet been exploited in plays or books, and which still have a fine
+old flavor, with faded prints of Dexter and Maud S. and much earlier
+favorites in the bar-room. In some cases, to be sure, though still
+situated at a country cross-roads, with green fields all about, they are
+now used for Tammany head-quarters with pictures of the new candidate
+for sheriff in the old-fashioned windows--but most of them would have
+gone out of existence entirely after the death of the stage-coach, if it
+had not been for the approach of the city, and the side-whiskered New
+Yorkers of a previous generation who drove fast horses. If the ghosts
+of these men ever drive back to lament the good old days together, they
+must be somewhat surprised, possibly disappointed, to find these rural
+road-houses doing a better business than even in their day. The bicycle
+revived the road-house, and though the bicycle has since been abandoned
+by those who prefer fashion to exercise, the places that the wheel
+disclosed are not forgotten. They are visited now in automobiles.
+
+[Illustration: An Old-fashioned Stone-arched Bridge. (Richmond, Staten
+Island.)]
+
+There are all those historic country-houses within the city limits, well
+known, and in some cases restored, chiefly by reason of being within
+the city, like the Van Cortlandt house, now a part of the park, and the
+Jumel mansion standing over Manhattan Field, a house which gets into
+most historical novels of New York. Similarly Claremont Park has adopted
+the impressive Zabriskie mansion; and the old Lorillard house in the
+Bronx might have been torn down by this time but that it has been made
+into a park house and restaurant. Nearly all these are tableted by the
+"patriotic" societies, and made to feel their importance. The Bowne
+place in Flushing, a very old type of Long Island farm-house, was turned
+into a museum by the Bowne family itself--an excellent idea. The Quaker
+Meeting-house in Flushing, though not so old by twenty-five years as
+it is painted in the sign which says "Built in 1695," will probably be
+preserved as a museum too.
+
+[Illustration: An Old House in Flatbush.]
+
+Another relic in that locality well worth keeping is the Duryea place,
+a striking old stone farm-house with a wide window on the second floor,
+now shut in with a wooden cover supported by a long brace-pole reaching
+to the ground. Out of this window, it is said, a cannon used to point.
+This was while the house was head-quarters for Hessian officers, during
+the long monotonous months when "the main army of the British army lay
+at Flushing from Whitestone to Jamaica;" and upon Flushing Heights
+there stood one of the tar-barrel beacons that reached from New York to
+Norwich Hill, near Oyster Bay. The British officers used to kill time
+by playing at Fives against the blank wall of the Quaker Meeting-house,
+or by riding over to Hempstead Plains to the fox-hunts--where the
+Meadowbrook Hunt Club rides to the hounds to-day. The common soldiers
+meanwhile stayed in Flushing and amused themselves, according to the
+same historian, by rolling cannon-balls about a course of nine holes.
+That was probably the nearest approach to the great game at that time
+in America, and it may have been played on the site of the present
+Flushing Golf Club.
+
+These same soldiers also amused themselves in less innocent ways, so
+that the Quakers and other non-combatants in and about this notorious
+Tory centre used to hide their live stock indoors over night, to keep
+it from being made into meals by the British. That may account for the
+habit of the family occupying the Duryea place referred to; they keep
+their cow in a room at one end of the house. At any rate it is not
+necessary for New Yorkers to go to Ireland to see sights of that sort.
+
+Those are a few of the historic country places that have come to town.
+There is a surprisingly large number of them, and even when they are not
+adopted and tableted by the D. A. R. or D. R., or S. R. or S. A. R.,
+they are at least known to local fame, and are pointed out and made much
+of.
+
+But the many abandoned country houses which are not especially historic
+or significant--except to certain old persons to whom they once meant
+home--goodly old places, no longer even near the country, but caught
+by the tide well within the city, that is the kind to be sorry for.
+Nobody pays much attention to them. A forlorn For Sale sign hangs out
+in front, weather-beaten and discouraged. The tall Colonial columns
+still try to stand up straight and to appear unconscious of the faded
+paint and broken windows, hoping that no one notices the tangle of
+weeds in the old-fashioned garden, where old-fashioned children used to
+play hide-and-seek among the box-paths, now overgrown or buried under
+tin cans.... Across the way, perhaps, there has already squatted an
+unabashed row of cheap, vulgar houses, impudent, staring little city
+homes, vividly painted, and all exactly alike, with highly ornamented
+wooden stoops below and zinc cornices above, like false-hair fronts.
+They look at times as though they were putting their heads together to
+gossip and smile about their odd, old neighbor that has such out-of-date
+fan-lights, that has no electric bell, no folding-beds, and not a bit of
+zinc cornicing.
+
+Meanwhile the old house turns its gaze the other way, thinking of days
+gone by, patiently waiting the end--which will come soon enough.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Simple typographical errors were corrected.
+
+Punctuation and spelling were made consistent when a predominant
+preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not changed.
+
+Page 8, first line: "manifestations of the spirit" could be "or".
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's New York Sketches, by Jesse Lynch Williams
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 42501 ***