Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-02-28

innernls." In the summer there are the boats
that come in with their passengers TO be car
ried all over town. Then there are the tourists
who desire 20 see the famous places and the
crowds But IN winter-and this winter-few
pubic balls. parates and professions not be-
gun, and only funerals going, Our Chatham
oqa.re haekman. with his experience of twenty
years. tsstifies to there having been in all that
time no season like it.
At CHATHAM SQUARE.
To study hacks and hackmen there's no bet
ter place than Chatham Square. And as there .
no better place, 40 there's no better time than
when competition is dull. II one looks too poor
to drive or If one has all the air of a confirmed
Pedestrian, one has the better chance for OBJ
servation. An indiscreet movement, a little air
OF iauguor and the wary. watchfui eye Of a
score of nen are on you. The slightest bend
OF the body, and a score Of voices raised in
ciamor and as many figures spring eager with
noisy proher. But on sunny mornings. when
the possible customer is not about one seer in
teresting things in Chatham Square. Then it
Is that the hackman abandons himself to re-
pose, gives On extra touch TO his horses and
yields himself to the delights OF little COM
munion with congenial souls. For our hack
man has little chance in his life for the inter
change Of IDEAS There IL probably no public
employe, the night Waterman excepted. With
whom the public talks little. Perched aloft
on his high box, FOR hours at time. he has op-
The passengers appeals to him are not always
made in a spirit to elicit sympathetic response.
mat quick staccatO rapping on the cab window
by the lrate passengers within. or the directions
and corrections called through the half-Open
door, and the sometimes noisy discussions
relative to rates, make up for the most part
the scene OF the communications addressed
him. But mt Chatham Square there are none
OF these things and he has time for repose.
The elevated trains rattle overhead, to be sure.
Carts rumble by on the streets; horse cars cross
and recross. and foot passengers and pedtilers
edge their way through. But then the sweet
hearts, for all that, and sometimes the mothers
and their little ones, and sometimes the sisters
find their way there they don't on Union or
Madison Square. Our hackman. sitting in the
open door of his coach. smiles up at the girl
with jaunty figure leaning OIL the door. One
less given to the pleasures of life puts all his
concentrated energies into polishing the brass
headgcar of his horses. Some men stand in
groups and smoke Blankets of every shade
and texture cover the horses, whose noses.
deep buried in bags of OATS are tossing half
their portion to the ground often as early as 10
clock In the morning. 1t is a sight not want
ing In tho picturesque, this group OF men and
horses, IN this dusty, bus.ling district and the
comments of the drivers have the easy flow
and abandon of all untrammeled observers of
life. Their rather patronizing sympathy for
the Nanderblits and other rich chaps who
tried to run cabs and couldn't is delightful.
THEY NEVER USE GLASSES.
long period Of observation among drivers
Of ell kinds has led to the discovery that none
apparently ever use glasses. certainly almost
never on the box. An old family coachman
who wore spectacles and who whistled when the
family stayed too long in houses or stores is
sometimes remembered in the streets. and an
old public cabman was once seen driving down
one OF our avenues with apair of heavy-rimmed
spectacles on his nose. But so far as is known
these are the only instances on record where
glasses have been used by eoachmen or drivers.
There is certain general resemblance all
cabmen bear to each other that does rot be-
long so much TO face and feature as to manner
and pose perhaps. Few people ever look at a
eabinans face to see wha. his features are.
Certainly no woman has the fortitude. That