The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1893-05-10
ACROSS BROOKLYN BRIDGE.
A TREMENDOUS RUSH ON EVERY
WORK-DAY EVENING.

OSl rs summer rain begins Wit
big drops out of half clear sky
C so the rush to Brooklyn sets
around the New York end Of th
East River bridge on every work k-da
evening. The gaping nav Of the bridg
has been at work lazily during the after
noon sucking in a few stragglers auC
throwing out little squads Of folk from
the trains that run behind it. But wheu
five O'Clock comes the drops Of the ap.
preaching tempest of humanity that is tc
storm the place like a revolutionary mol
around Bastille begin to appear in
Printing-house Square. They come faster,
aud run together in little rivulets ur
Park Row, down Chatham street, along
Centre street, aud across the City Hall
Park-all turned one way, all streaming
toward the bridge. Even then they
give no warning Of what is to come, ex.
cept to those who know that the tori eut
is as certain to develop aud as sure to
become tremendous as that tidal bore
which daily swells the SAguenay with its
overwhelming food.
The black drops come faster and
thicker. They splash in sudden numbers
from the nearby office buildings aud the
horse cars. The little streams now
lengthen out, aud from far up and do Sn
the streets and across the park in Broad
way. 1t is 8 o'clock, aud tho offices ia
the buildings that hold villagefus are
closing. It is no longer a sprinkle.
1t is shower. Farther and farther
away the human drops minge; bigger
grow the converging streams. At half
past five the wholesale stores and the
warehouses are closing. 1t is torrent
now. At six the factories aud the work.
shops thrust myriad toilers upon the
streets. The very clouds Of the cty's
humanity appear to have gathered over
one spot. The usual c)ufues no longer
hold the two legged drops which now
jostle one another oil the sidewalks, into
the CUTTERS, out upon the roadways, all
over the parks asphaltum. The outlook
from the upper stories of the neighbor.
hood is upon a sea of people, in droves
like wild cattle, coming up as if out Of
the earth from every direction, pushin :,
hurrying, covering every open space like
locusts. Now it is a petiug rain. Half
an hour passes, aud the elevated trains,
which come like breathing, absorb half
the crowd so fast thut the station stairs
become as the beds of inverted cataracts
up which the dark torrent climbs resist
lessly. The horse cars fro n both direc.
tions stop aud discharge people as gus
are wheeled up, fired, and dragged
away on a battlefield. 1t is clouiburst,
and it has made mill race-something
far bigger than that-the swollen draiu
Of human freshet.
Thirty thousand men, women aud
children are in the torrent, thirty thou.
sand pedestrians in ninety minute down.
pour; for though the rush is between
five o'clock and seven, it is thinned at
both ends, aud the bulk of it is CON.
pressed in period of between sixty aud
ninety minutes. This is not counting
the almost equal numbers that seek the
elevated cars. The surging black waves,
white-capped with human faces, hurl
themselves against the granite steps Chat
lead to the yawning iron throat of the
bridge and spread over them. There is
no more sign of individual motion than
there is in the herds of sheep that one
looks down upon from the Colorado
Mountains when the droves are moviuy
along the valleys like floating brown ISL
ands, as clouds move against the sky.
Overhead on a trestle that crosses from
the City Hall Park, another black cur
rent, from the stcam-cars, keeps pace
with. the tide below. In that way the
exodus to Brooklyn moves over every
thing ahead of it, as if, were the bridge
TO fall, the people would still keep
straight on, filling the river, and press.
ing forward upon the un iermost bodies.
We read about the European capitals,
treated with the skill of artists, clothed
with the glamour of tradition, aud col
ored by the fancy that grows richer
with the distance of its subject. But
what has London to show like that
daily congestion at the Brooklyn Bridge?
What crowds in Paris are to be meas
ured with thisl What E iropean city has
even one of the many strange conditions
that produce this scene9 Here come the
elevated railways that carry three.
quarters of a million souls day, the
surface vehicles Of the million aud six
hundred thousand people Of Mlnhattan,
the streets leading from the densest pop
ulation in America, all meeting in one
little square, all pouring out people, and
all the people streaming into great
trumpetlike mouth of iron in order to
be shot across a hanging cobweb of
metal threads into city that has not its
mate or counterpart on earth-Brooklyn!
1t is like a city in some things. 1t is a
vast aggregation of homes aud streets
aud shops, with government Of its
own. Yet many things it has not got
things with which many little town
could put 1t to the blush. Aud every
other city earns its own way, while
Brooklyn works for New York, aud
and is paid of like a shop girl on Satur-
day nights.
"Stop showing sol" "Look out who
you're pushing!' "Don't try to run over
me, l say" These are notes from the
chorus of the solid mass of persons that
crowd up the stairs to the bridge cars.
On the upper platform the train sweep
away regiments at a time. Burly brid ge
policemen are there urging every one
forward, aud at times-uutil the news.
papers cry out, periodicaly-putting
their hands on their betters aud wedginy