The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1886-11-04
NIGHT ON THE BIG BRIDGE.

NIGHT ON THE BIG BRIDGE.
What May BE Seen and Heard There
Experience OF the Night Police
-shrfeks for Help from b
River.
The sights and sounds on the New
York and Brooklyn bridge at night diff
fer from those of the day, says The
Ncw York Tribune, as much as the
great arc of electric lights on that aerial
highway differ from the glare Of high
noon. Countrymen by the hundreds
drift idly across the structure between
sunrise and sunset every day. People
visiting New York for the first time
linger long on the bridge. They look
at the hurrying crowds who rush along
the prominade going westward to New
York in the morning and eastward to
bed and board in Brooklyn at night
fall. They hang " the parapets, let
their chances range over the two great
cities throbbing with busy life, mark
the rapid tide OF tho East river flowing
under their feet with the fleets and
flags of the world lying at the wharves.
ply h wearied policemen with count
less queries about the bridge, and then
when they return to their homes they
talk to their friends and acquaintance
for hours concerning the stupendous
structure. But they have seen only one
side of life ON the bridge. It is after
the electric lights havesupplanted the
day, when the apparently endless
string of vehicles and funeral process
sions that have been rumbling across
the roadway for twelve hours has
dwindled to an occasional truck or car.
riage that the second side Of life on
the bridge sets in. The steady roar sc
the cities a to jar ON the ear; thes
last traveller homeward to BROOKLYN
with a weary look on his face and
thoughts of supper in his head has
passed hurriedly on. The mighty arch
is now given over to family groups and !.
to lovers.
The last to leave the bridge are the
lovers. The young fellow and his
''best girl" will let blissful companion
ship trench on sleepiness every time.
They form a pleasant feature of evening
life on the bridge, these lovers. Solitary
among moving crowds, his muscular
arm encircles her waist and she trust
fully submits to the caress. Nobody
notices them. They are too common.
and in that belief is their great solace
and assurance. But, though they love
to linger, by II o'clock they are follow
ing in the wake of the vanishing domes-
tic circles. The benches under the
towers become vacant. Perhaps some
lone youth fingers upon them to read
again in the white glare of the electric
ity a missive, well-thumbed, dirty and
mis-spelled. The policeman looks al
him pityingly and passes on to his little
cabin where his a of coffee SINNERS
gently on the oil stove. "Poor ideit.'.
says the policeman softly to himself,
'.he's eatin' his white bread now" The
policeman gets 50 a day and has to sup
port a wife,, mother-in-law, and eight
children out of that. He pities the
young fellow out on the bench. But i.
the young fellow doesn't care for the
policeman. He cons the letter. with the
faulty photography, and his ardent az.
lection for the writer grows with In
creased fervor. Il
Midnight sees the last lover gonaV
from the bridge. At that hour the
licemen are changed. The members OF
the night squad that then comes on
wear different expressions from those
of the day men. The stony stare and
curt reply of the day policeman, who
delights to freeze the marrow in the
bones OF countrymen seeking informa-
ton, find no imitators among the night
patrol. The night man walks with any
passing foot traveller so long as the lat
ter will be beguiled. When the foot
travellers cease to amuse, there is usual
~ an animated dialogue going on be-
tween the policeman on the promenade
and his neighbor down on the drive
way. These intellectual exchanges Of
views have a wide scope, and embrace
religion. politics, philosophy, and the
price and quality of the various brands
of chewing tobacco. There. are no
jumping cranks to worry the soul and
tax the vision of a night policeman.
But there is no lack of incidents to in
terest the night Waterman. Areporter
crossing the bridge at 8 o'clock d
morning noticed a policeman leaning
over the parapet in a listening attitude.
The reporter stopped and listened.
Family on the night air he could hear
cries that seemed to come from far up
the East river. about opposite Have
meyers sugar refinery. A woman was
screaming 'Murder! MURDER" Present.
" the cries ceased.
What is itP" asked the reporter.
''Some devilishness going on down
on the river" muttered the policeman.
1--WE often hear cries of people in dis
tress out on tho river. We are helpless
to do anything up here. By and by tho
cries stop. and that is the last Of ii.
Sometimes we see a man go down to the
dock. We can see him plainly by the
light jump into the river. II he ever
comes ont, we never see him.. sr~ &
An Utter Impossibility.
Why don't you brace up, and Be AN
man Jim, and cease wearing that cross