The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1873-07-13


your friends you have found that the Hon.
Slashem Sumner, his good lady and his
daughters Miss Angeline Sumner and Miss
Clara Evelina Sumner, are ''out of town" be
sure that the Summer In in the air. Nothing
short of that would ever induce the Hon.
Slashem to be two days away from the club.
where things political are settled In shady
corners. Nothing short Of that would rob
Miss Angelina Of her iittlo informal re-
captions, her opera box and her daz-
cling city toilets nothing short Of that
would steal the sentimental Clara Evelina
from her alteration of the beautiful IN PIC
lures, heart-rending society millinery plays
opera tenors, chatelaines dry goods and that
bewitching agglomeration which she names
''dear romantic Gotham" The Rev Hezckiah
Plumpchin, who preached at your village
church year ago, has sailed week ago for
Europe, and even that dapper young fellow
Gervaise JONES' who sang 'Ruddier than the
Cherry" at the church concert, is away for
month"; singing ''Reddcr than the Raspberry
the country, where he charms the rustic
maidens with his larynx and his new Summer
suit, as he did the maidens of Poppleyille last
year. These, to be sure are tho negative signs
of Summer On this fair Sabbath morning
the signs are everywhere Not with the few
thousands who find the city unsupportable and
the watering place hotels cheap have you to do
now The million are abroad now to tell you
that the leaves are green, the sun shining and
the waters cool As this is Sunday, you may
look into the church of your clerical friend
Plumpchin, and if the pews are not nearly so
f, full or the singing so loud-voiced Summer is
seen in the gauzy robes, the light colors, the
strange preacher, Mr.. Eliseus Psllidman, and
his sermon, almost as bloodless as his cheeks.
Summer signs over this part of the picture as
its breezes do through the trees We shall
touch this subject further on.
| But the multitude-the pent-up million,
who see in q Summer Sunday their day of
days-just mark them as they enjoy it Poor,
Paterfamalias may say, as he hurries his little
ones through the toilet, which is their
''best'' -
| The turf shall be my fragrant shrine;
My temple, Lord, that arch OF Thine;
Ny censer's breath the mountain air,
And silent thoughts my only prayer.
! 1t is more probable however, that the good
man leaves all that business to the poets and
counts the sandwiches by way of thanking
Heaven for his daily bread. Whatever his
thoughts he is seen betimes heading the family
procession towards Staten Island, the delight
full; Coney Island, the sandy and
surfy somewhere up the Hudson, some
where down the Bay somewhere beyond the
Harlem River, or somewhere behind Hunters
Point That class is thus disposed Oft is
among the best Next we have those who are
more particular about their raiment and less
anxious for festive enjoyment. They are
going to Central Park The long avenue
lines of horse cars are laden with them.
They 60 in groups of fashy young men,
whose very cigars have a prggish twist.
They 60 in pairs, whereof O moiety is femi-
nine and of which both integers are young.
These are the lovers, and their hours are these,
when the afternoon merges into the time of
frightening shadows and the soul is full of
soft and pleasant emotions Old people are
there to breathe the fresh air, and very young
ones are there to play in q subdued Sabbath
rian manner. All it is a goodly sight The
Park is the peoples flower garden now, if
ever The Germans, good souls, are there
in large numbers but their brows are clouded
more than is their wont. If you require
| to know whence comes this darkening of the
broad, solid face, mark how ight-hearted are
the thousands of Vaterlands children who
are thronging the ferryboats to jersey, that
they may drink lager in Hudsonian streams
from the ferryhouse to the SYPHILIS Cave and
through the length and breadth of the Elysian
Fields. Is it good that they should be sent
thither by law? Let the man who loves total
abstinence by edict and encourages vice in
many another form thereby answer. But the
poorer, the poorest classes where is their en-
joyment? Blue laws in city like New
York, where ''toil renting gives it's turn to
play" SO seldom, must be as unwise as they
are next to impossible to enforce. To the
denizens, however, of the crowded tenement
houses that darken the sunlight in the narrow
streets and alleys of the city in the Fourth
and Sixth wards, for example, the Blue law,
or the Liquor law, makes very little difference.
The men may come out in their shirt sleeves
and smoke their pipes on the stoops, while
their wives cook the Sunday dinner and the
children, whom every effort has been made to
dress presumably, are rolling over each other
on the sidewalk 1t is day of rest in truth,
and only that to the male head of the family
there. The dirty brick walls are his horizon,
and the side door of the liquor store some
times CLEANS deceptively before his eyes, as
the lake mirage does before the traveller in
the desert. If he tries to Stake his thirst there
he will find a hot blast like the desert
breath in his throat, and SO his
Sunday passes. Out of the Elysian Fields and
the crowded places of our city the Sunday