Pine Bluff daily graphic., 1894-08-15
THE CITY ON THE RoUsEToPs.
A Phase of Life in the Tenement Quarter
 of NeM York.

TIE Cl LIN TIE F1OOSE OF .. A Phase of Life in the Tenement Quarter
 of New York.
 Then the evening comes; and in sum- mer this is the fashionable hour for the denizens of the housetops. It is- less stihing up there than in the houses, or in the streets below. Often there is breeze, generally from the south, with whiH of the ocean in it's breath. Then the scene on the house. top becomes animated. Whole fami- lies are eneamped up there; there is singing, stories are told, sometimes there is dancing. Musical instruments are not at all rare, and the accordion is chief among them. Now and then the merTiment of. separate parties become extinct; all pause and listen to d single voice that rises high and distinct above the hubbub. Sometimes it is hymn of the synagogue, caroled forth upon the night by q boys quavering voice; sometimes it is an air from an operetta, delivered in stentorian tones by pro- fessional" man singer The applause, when the performance is over, comes from every roof in the neighborhood. When there is saloon '.on the bloc1' and what block is without it's drink ing house?-sounds of carousa1 make their way, from time to time, to the city on the housetops.
 An impromptu orchestra, in attend ance at some wedding or birthday fes- tivity in the brilliantly lighted apart ments of family Ion the block, gladdens with it's strains the hearts of tired mortals on the roof. Sometimes a burst of mad melody, full of the weird cadence and passionate abandon that characterize the dance music of the l peasantry of eastern Europe, awakens sad memories or passionate longing in some immigrant (,'greenhorn, the older immigrants call him) lately come from some fa1-of country. i The poor Jew who finds his way straight from the immigration l station on Ellis island to one of the in- numerable sweaters" dens of this neighborhood breathes for an hour, perhaps, the air of the night, and gazes about him at the strange city that his toll leaves him no opportunity to investigate. Perhaps he does not even care to do this, the dull hard 1 grind deadening all sentiment of curiosity in his soul. Wild, unthinlz- ing gayety alone can arouse him from the lethargy in which his life is wrapped. Late into the night the mer- riment lasts, and then, when good nights have been said, it is only about one-half of the company that descend | 4,f- T.
 roll themselves in sheets and blankets, and prepare for a night under the stars.
 A thunder shower coming mp in the middle of the night disperses them, and there is great noise of scuffling 1 and running as each one awal1es to take up his bed and walk with it. Be- i tween two and three o'clock of a fine morning the moon looks down upon a i bivouac of shrouded motionless figures. and the city on the housetops is turned into shining metropolis. Little chill l dren and women sleep thus in the open air, sometimes on the roof, sometimes on their own fire escape; but the ma i jority of the out-of-door sleepers are 1 young men, accustomed all their lives, i many of them, to hard hunks and un- easy surroundings. The glow of a cigar or a cigarette from one of these shapeless heaps of bedding might dis turb the nights slumber of an appre- hensive person. Dawn comes to awaken them early, for the most part, but it is no uncommon sight to sec their outstretehed forms when the sun already rides high in the sky. Other men and women pass in and out among them without disturbing them, and when they awake and open their arms to the day, no complicated toilette awaits them; they are half clothed all ready, and a few instinctive touches do 1 the rest. Atlantic.