Connecticut western news., 1884-10-01
CITY KITCHEN GARDENS.
WHERE NEW YORK GETS ITS VEGE-
 TABLES FOR THE DAY.
The FRrmern' Midnight MRrket-From the Truck Farms of Long Island to the Cob ble stones of the City.
From the N. '. Herald.l

tumn each one of the thousand truck farms in near New Jersey and Long Island sends forth big market wagon loaded with it's produce. An hour later the roads as far out as Flushing on the east and Paterson on the west are filled with long lines of these vehicles slowly converging toward one common point New York.
 By ten o'clock the advance guard reaches the North and East rivers, and from then until one o'clock in the morning the Bridge and the ferry-boats are packed with heavily loaded vehicles, which when once they reach the city go rumLling over the stones until they gather in one great mass at the Farmers midnight market.
 Here, in the streets near the junction of Dey and Washington, is to be found one of the most picturesque phases of night life in New York-long rows of immense wagons backed up against the curb, their tired horses standing with dropping heads meeting in the middle of the street-great piles of produce blocking the sidewalks, where every spare foot of space is occupied by the farmers, grocerymen and speculators, bargaining with each other rapidly in seventeen different langusges-checked- shirted "carriers" pushing along, each one pushing, dragging or carting bag or barrel, and above all the haring oil lamps against the awning posts, throw ing their light in through the windows of the deserted shops.
 For two hours and more the bargain ing continues and then, all the loads being sold-for New York quickly con- sumes the vast production-the delivery commences. This is the work of the boss "carriers," one of whom, for dol lar, engages to deliver & wagon load to its purchaser or purchasers. "Tim the Horse," Savannah" Pretty Jack" and "Mustache," as the carriers are called in the cheerful idiom of the street, gather their men together, put one or two on each wagon, and the breaking up of the market begins.
 The greater part of the produce hay ing been bought by the spectators or middle men, who the next day sell it to the grocerymen, the majority of the wagons are driven down to West Wash ington Market. This is the stronghold of the speculators. Over four hundred of them occupy the queer little double decked booths which line Country row, Broad avenue, Vesey pier, Merchants TOW and the dozen other narrow little lanes which make the market miniature town.
 Forty years ago the North River came up to West street, and the New Jersey farmers brought over their produce in unpaved road into old Washington Mar ket. Now the river has been filled in for quarter of a mile further out, and the made ground is occupied by the wholesale or West Washington Market, which is entirely distinct from the old or retail market. and is as little known to the average New Yorker as the top of St. PauPs steeple.
 Many of the curious little shops are built on piles, and not a few on old scows and canal boats. The city, how ever, owns all the space, and the booths pay ground rent into the municipal treasury which aggregates $290, 900 a | year.
 From sunset until midnight, Country row and Garden lane are silent and de- serted. The booths are all open and the contents thereof, from the boxes of eggs to the barrels of pickles, are apparently unguarded. On the floors, on boxes and on the cobblestones outside lie the porters, sound asleep. One could walk through every lane of the market with out seeing moving thing.
 But when at two o'clock the farmers wagons come down from the market in Greenwich and Washington streets, and the 'carriers" begin to deliver the variegated loads which the speculators have just bought, each lane falls into a condition of apparent chaos to which a jam on Broadway is an easily solved problem. There is, however, no actual confusion, for the omnicient "carrier' reigns supreme, and under his guiding hand, a wagon unloads it's cargo at half dozen different booths, and starts away over the ferry in an hours time.
 Many of these carriers are paid S30 a week by the bosses, because of their transcendent ability to dump load of po- tatoes or apples on the floor of a specu- lator's shop so as to bring the best points of the stuff uppermost.
 "Some of our men are mighty smart, " said one of the boss carriers to re- porter, early on a recent morning, as he watched the unloading of thousand punches of radishes from a wagon to a shop floor. 'If that man was a green hand he'd make those radishes look fifty per cent. smaller and more wilted than they look now-it's in the way he sort of sizes up each bundle as he takes hold of it, and throws it on the heap just where it'll do the most good. Oi course we pay such men high wages. The farmers won't give their jobs of un- loading to a carrier that has poor men, for they make his stuff look poor, and he loses custom"
 Just as the first gray light of the morning appears the sleepy farmers and their sleepier horses crowd upon the ferryboats and begin their long journey home, while the boats on their return trips are packed with milk wagons com.