Wichita eagle., 1889-03-09

ugeS OF former eieg7 ance IN TIE Snape OF
quaIntly-carved old ruantels and antique
brass knockers in some of the tumble-down
tenements Of the lower East side, and
know of at least one old colonial house
which still contains the heavy mahogany
doors and broad re-places OF our ances-
tors. One in particular have in mind,
which has pair of rnantels designed in the
best style of colonial art, with graceful col
umns and LOUIS ". oruameutation which
would set the lover Of antiques wild with
envy.
The rooms are now occupied by large
family of Malays-siKteen Of them IN two
rooms. Almost al Of these old houses have
had an interesting history, but the New
Yorker OF to-day cares very little for their
past glories or their present occupants.
In Paris or Rome or London, where he is
on pleasure bent, he is an interchangeable
searcher after the Old and the historical, he
scours Whitechaoel and the Latin Quarter
and ignores the Mulberry Bend, Greenwich
village and the French Quarter In the heart
of his own city. He travels miles to see
the arches and monuments of Paris and
only glances at the statue Of Liberty as he
passes on the deck OF the outgoing steamer.
He raves about the sunsets On the Bay Of
Naples ard has probably never seen one
from the Brooklyn bridge. Few know that
the Manhattan Bank owes its foundation to
pair Of rusty old iron water-tanks which
still exist, built il the heart OF a machine
shop on Reaoe street, and which were the
first water works known TO old New
Workers
This carelessness or specifically con-
corning local history and places of interest
is paralleled by the general ignorance OF
prominent people who walk in our mids t.
General Grant Us ed to pass the Fifth
Avenue Hotel at bout four o'clock every
pleasant afternoon on ais way uptown, yet
not one in a hundred OF the crowd On
Broadway paused to give the quie6 little
man a second glance Carl SchurZs tall,
bent figure and thoughtful face does not at
tract the slightest attention from the Broad
way promenader Not one New Yorker in
a hundred knows Jay Gould, or Russell
Sage or John Jacob Aston by sight, and yet
they are On the streets almost every day.
met General Sherman in Days foyer the
other evening and Mr. Daily addressed him
as General" General whos' whispered
my companion, an old New Yorker. Yet
one would think that the illustrated papers
had made his features so familiar TO the
pubic that there wculd be no mistaking
him
It is not remarkable, then, that some Of
New York's most active citizens whose
names are household words wherever news
papers are read should be still less known
by sight.
Walk with me on Broad way for an hour
and will point out dozen men whose rep
utations extend the length and breadt h Of
the land, and yet who hardly attract d bass
ing glance from the casual promenade
William N. Evarts, with his hat pulled
down over his ears and his eccentric shirt
collar, nobody can sake. His n re, his
hat and his collar constitute q ''ma ks-up, .
as handsome Bob Hllliard, who folio ~ close
behind, would say, which nobody can mis-
take That tall, soldierly-lCOl:Ing nsn with
bronzed face, his firm mouth sh aded bv q
heavy brown mustache and his under lin
set off by q tiny tuft, IS Inspector Alexander
Williams, the best Of the mar Y good men
upon our much-abused police orce, giant
in stature, an athlete in phi ,sioue, a man
devoid of fear and with g hear { as big as his
body, as those who know himI best have dis.
covered.
Following him cores N IN muffed in a
great fur-liued coat, his strongly marked
features, his struggling lair and beard and
his broad forehead are ff ,rnlliar enough to Us