The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1853-03-11

the Monroe doctrine, and the valiant threats
of the ..unterrifed" against each, all and every
rash intruder upon the soil of the two Americas?
| That he cares not rush whether Mr.. Cass or
Mr. Clayton be in the right-whether British
Honduras be bona Jfde colony, or whether it
| be mere abstraction to which territorial
name is attached by courtesy? That he would
not give groat to hear Saunders, with arms
| barred and revolver in girdle. harangue the
| flibusteros in Deaths Head Hall, or ftp to
| doze over the last anodyne from the National
| InteHigencer? That he regards the appoint
| ments as a monstrous bore. and with Neronian
| ferocity wishes to Heaven that the candidates
had but one back, that the official harness might
be clapped thereon with single jerk? That
he is sick of discussions on the merits and policy
of President Pierce and his cabinet, and would
accept with equal Indifference President
Log or President Crane, so his ear was eman-
cipated from the surrounding din of false pro-
phecy, unjust criticism and fawning laudation?
That he cannot hear the name of Cuba without
nausea? That stories Of municipal corruption
drive him crazy? That he votes grand juries
bore, politicians nuisance, the constitution
itself thing to be respectfully let alone, and
| by no means drum to be thumped by every
clumsy hand?
| If there be among our readers one such cou-
rageous individual, him we invite to vile away
few moments with us in congenial grumbling
| at few of the minor miseries of New York
| life. We shall not solicit his company through
the thoroughfare Of civic reform, or request him
i 10 {roo NIT 4ha hoe tan of
| Congressional criticism. 1t is to unseen by
ways, to lanes into which we Of the fourth es-
tate seldom condescend to intrude that we
would direct his steps.
We will assume that he accepts the propo-
sition, and without more ado, drag him into
one Of the fashionable streets up town-say
Fourteenth-a broad well-conceived street,
with splendid mansions on either side. Bound
ed by two rivers. it divides New York into the
two essential compartments of every large city
the abode of trade, and that Of elegance and
somfort-in every way street worthy of the
continental metropolis But see what oceans
of mud roll beneath our feet Horses and
carriages splash each other as they pass, and
the filth flies even to the doorsteps and parlor
windows. To cross is out of the question
Fortunate shall we be if that omnibus do not
bemire US from head to foot. We leave it in
terror and disgust. Another, northward or
southwark. as you please, presents an equally
clearly spectacle. The wheels dip into the
mud, and emerge dripping like water
gods. Ladies. rashly attempting to trans
navigate the sea of mire, seem, after the
operation, to have exchanged their neat bottines
and white stockings for brown leather boots
reaching to mid calf We inquire how it is that
the most fashionable quarters Of New York. are
more filthy than ST. Giles in London, or the
Faubourg St. Antoine in Paris; and we are told
that the street cleaners perform the salutary
operation Of sweeping each street twice a year.
We are somewhat consoled by the information
that for about forty eight hours in each year, it
is possible to visit ones neighbor over the way,
without hiring carriage or a pair Of stills.
Lower down, as we approach the Park and
Nassau street, the crossings are kept in q state
of semi-cleanliness, and this is the worst of ALL
Take two cases. You are crossing Park row, with
lady in light silk or barege dress when
you have reached half way. wretched looking
little girl, fit impersonation of dirt, plants
herself firmly in your path, stretches out
tawny hand, and begs: "Gie' me q cent sir !!
penny, ma'am" You are in an agony of fear
of the stages, cars and carriages which are hur-
rying past you on every side; you have no
change. and motion the child aside. She is i'm
movable as rock. You frown angrily. She
glides past you, and as you hurry on, congratu-
lating yourself on your escape, you are sudden
ly checked by your companion. The little
crossing sweeper has caught firm grip of
her skirt, and is repeating her entreaties
Disengaged, you have very faithful
delineation Of tiny human hand in mud on
the most conspicuous part of the lady's dress
Again, you are alone, Fastening at full speed to
dinner party. Your toilet does you credit,
and you know it, You unceremoniously disre-
gard the petition for :. A penny, sir;' but
scarcely has the voice faded on your ear, than
peculiar splasby sound is heard behind, and
you discover that with dexterous movement
Of her broom the little cherub has despatched
you with mud from head to foot. There she
stands laughing at you, and calling her COM
panions to share the treat. What can you do?
Nothing if you are wise man, but walk quiet
ly on till the mud dries, and then procure the
services Of a hotel waiter with good brush.
| Let US suppose the operation concluded and
your philosophy once more pre-eminent. You
walk along the noble pavement in Broadway.
and feel proud of the Empire City. Here, at
all events. you think neither mud nor any
other barbarous inconvenience can arrest your
progress. Just at this moment brick from
the hod of careless laborer on the ladder
above falls to the ground within four inches of
your nose. 1t has battered the rim of your
hat perhaps. and annihilated a chef dourre of