Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1884-02-02


J, scent down the Brooklyn streets.
: There were whole crowds of peO
:. pie coming over from Brooklyn
! aud, on a roadway little below thu
: path for foot Passengers, wagon
!, and trunks, ami butchers aud ba
kers' carts and carriages and coupe.
were gathering down To the street
! one side, and starting up the incline
i toward Brooklyn on the other, anC
. then the cars ran on both sides oil
! US, too. There were any number 0
awfully swell young fellows com.
|. ing over from Brooklyn, all in
, the greatest hurry, with nice little
canes and umbrellas and patent
leather shoes, and the sweetest little
short OvercoatS you ever saw.
wish Howard Smith would wear
one Of those coats, though i don't
know aS | need to care what he
wears after what has happened this
morning-but | haven't got To that
yet. (Now please don't skip down
to that plaeeD There were lots of
other people coming oveI besides
: young men though, and you never
saw such lot of shop girls. Pm
glad Pun not shop girl 1t must
be perfectly h0rrid To walk on the
streets with your luncheon done up
in paper. / should think they
could carry it some way so people
wouldn't know what it was. Do
you remember how Howard Smith
used to carry his dinner in an opera
glass case? His sister said that he
almost starved to death before his
salary was raised, because ne
!. couldn't afford to buy his luncheon
4 down town and didn't have time to
come home at noon and he would
not carry enough luncheon down to
his Office fer fear he might be taken
for a person that had To work for h
living, if peepIecoulds see the parcel.
But some of those shop, girls were
real pretty, and some OF them were
awfully jolly and full OF fun, and
were laughing and telling stories
and smiling AT some of those young
men. But there were some of them
who looked so faded and worn out!
Their faces appeared SO weary and
| sad, as if they had nothing 10 live
for and notAhaif enough to eat, and
they seemed so unattractive and
bitter that / could't help pity.
| ing them awfully and they've
been OH my mind ever since.
Well, we walked up the bridge
toward the great tower. We star
ted even with the street, and gradu-
ally we got up To the second stories
of the houses, and then to the third j
and fourth stories, and finally even
with the roofs, and then higher and
and higher, until we looked down
on the roofs. aud still higher and
higher, until we were far above the
taliest factory chimneys, and the
people i'm the streets below lookei
like little black dolls, and the great
buildings like railroad cars. The
chimneys aud roofs and sides ofthe
houses on both si,ies of the bridge
were covered with all kinds Of adj
vertisementS of all kinds of Inedi-
cines and all kind of things. But
when we had passed the great pier
and come out on the span of the
bridge over the river the view in
both directions Was absolutely glOri- 4
Gus. TO the south the sun was
sparkling on the waters of the river
clear down into the bay, aud
through the Narrows, far, far out |
into the vast ocean, which stretch |
ed away and away until the soft |
blue blended with the azure of the |
sky. On both sides of us the harbOr |
was Il forest of iuasts, and the two |
cities lay spread far.Out to the east |
and west. Beneath us-hut so far |
below that they seemed like toys |
vessele of, all descriptions we're |
steainiiig ana putting up anil dtiwn |
the river and IA and Oat Irum the |
the piers; ferry-boais, bargts ,stvain-
ers, sehooners, fishing smacks, row
boats AMI sailing craft of all kinds
danced U the sparkling water,
while to N&th the river wound |
sinuously Sag the piers and hous-
close to .ge. and tll-appeared
in laba of brick. (Isn't that a
beautiful Iscription, Kate? l can't |
tell you how many sheets of paper |
I've wasted in accomplishing ii. /
wish you'd read it to your uncle,
and If he insists on printing it in his
paper you can let liim.)
Now comes the romantic part of
my story, Kate. While we were
standing leaning over the bridge,
and pa was pointing out Blackwell's
Island, where, he told us, they were
going to put the statue OF Bartholdi,
an awfully, awfully handsome and
perfectly swell young gentleman,
with the lovliest mustache and eyes
and the divinest hands and feet,
who had been standing near us
looking at me, came over to us and
said to pa, In such ii very polite way
that we couldn't have been often
ded If we'd tried
81 beg thousand pardons, sir;
but pray allow me to set you right.
That is Governors Island, where
General Hancock's headquarters are
situated, and the statue is TO go on
Bedloe's Island, a little furtherout."
OF course pa thanked him, and
then he pointed out some more
islands and told us about them, and
was just as polite and nice as he
could be. | could see that he wan
ted to talk to me, but pa never
thinks of such things, and SO he
kept him all to himself, and they
walked along ahead OF us toward
Brooklyn, and what do you think
He turned out to be a nephew of
the cashier of pas bank, and he
has been in Milwaukee and knows
the Jones and the Thompsons and
lot more nice people; and he said
he had heard of me and had been
anxious to meet me for long time.
He saw me once from the Robin
sons window, you know. His
name is Cecil ST. Elmo. Isn't that
a perfectly lovely name? And he
is broker in Wall street, and must
be worth heaps Of money, because
he invited inc to occupy his box at
the Metropolitan Opera House. i
said that should like to see Faust"
ever SO much, and then ma did
make herself ridiculous. She asked
if Irving was plrying in Faust"
and Mr.. st. Elmo said no, that Mr..
Irving was playing in "Uncle Toms
Cabin" don't think heis though.
/ guess he must / ave been joking.
Well, we went over TO the other
end of the bridge to take the cars
back, and Mr.. ST. Elmo went with
us. That horrid little Toby got
tired, of course, and Mr.. st. Elmo
wouldn't let papa carry him, but
took him himself. / think it was
awful of pa to let him. but he car