Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-10-27
WATCHING NEW YORK WAKE UP.
FIRST Sights md Sounds in the
streets Long Before Host Persons
Ure Awake.


Streets Long Before Host Persons
are Awake.
-,~~ 1ora wakes up py degrees evs.-,
morning like heavy sleeper whose rest is
broken but not completed The quiet of the
endless lines of brick and brown stone dwell
ings that were the first to succumb to the in
auence Of night is broken at between and 8
o'clock in the morning by the jingling clatter
OF furiously driven milk wagons, starting
from common centres and sitting through
all the streets in all directions. They cosfs
from the ferries and the depot of the Hudson
River and Harlem railroads, in Lexington
avenue. The cans and pitchers are standing
In area-ways under front stoops, and behind
doors, for which the trusted drivers possess
the keys, and in most of the houses no one is
stirring to meet these first callers.
At a steady, swinging gait the farmers
wagons roll in from the ferries and bridges.
What they are bringing to market is tied
down and hidden under dirt-stained canvas
covers Sometimes the lighted bull's-eye
lamps, swaying to and fro beneath the front
axles give hint Of long and rough journeys
on dark country roads. The heavy, thun-
der-like rumble of the brewers wagons chases
up the rattle Of the milk tins, blends with it,
and thus forms the basis for what is called
the roar of the great city. These beer wagons
begin to leave the breweries at about 8
O'Clock, the first to start being those that
serve the customers furthest away, in the
suburbs or the annexed district. Then come
the grUcers wagons to and from the mar
kets, and soon after o'clock the first stores
are thrown open. Sleepy-looking, shock
headed, lusty young Germans, draw. the bolts
in the grocery doors, jerk down the shutters,
and begin to build on the sidewalks the ter
raced platforms of empty soap and starch
boxes on which to spread the fresh stock Of
greens, potatoes and fruit The work is in
terrupted by the visits, rapidly drawing
closer, of the servant girls and the wives of
the neighborhood, with colorless faces and
slipshod att They issue from the stores
holding cans and pitchers with steady hands,
swinging little bundles of kindlings or
pressing between forearms and waists long
loosely wrapped parcels, whose flying brown
covers reveal glimpses of the brown and
white ends Of fresh 1oaves.
The liquor stores are now wide open.
Shades are rolled up, screens are showed
aside, and water chased by vigorous brooms
is splashing over the sills upon the sidewalks
Young men wearing aprons are rubbing the
great plate windows, and trembling, biear-
eyed old men, half broken down by drink,
are cleansing wooden floor gratings, rolling
out empty kegs, and strainihg at ropes ar
ranged 10 draw reluctant barrels from the
gaping getaways. Here, again, the women
come with pitchers and with bottles, and
hurrying men plunge through the open doors
and presently emerge with straighter car
riage and more confident tread.
It is o'clock and the Babel Of the city
clatter is fairly under way. The bakery
doors are open, and bakers carJs are being
laden with warm ioayes and biscuits brought
up from heated cellars on big, black iron
trays by men wearing white caps, and with
brawny, well-foured arms and boards
sprinkled white as with powder of snow.
The horse cars roll by closer and closer
together, the thunder of elevated trains be-
comes almost continuous. Apparently endless
lines of empty carts and trucks all bound in
one direction move down the avenues, clouds
Of dust fly from store and hall doors and out
of upper windows; bent men in gray suits,
with overlooking leather bags hung from
their shoulders, are running up and down
stoops and in and out of streetdo Another
day in the great town has been thoroughly
uSnered in