The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1896-11-12
h

Some twenty-odd years ago the residents
of Richmond county used to a k great
pride in the picturesque scenery of their
island, and they wondered how it was
that a region so close to the busy
city of New York could be allowed
to remain so lonely and deserted. A drive
or tramp into the interior brought ono
through lanes and woods of singular
beauty, especially when the trees were ar
rayed in their most gorgeous and fantastic
colors during the Indian summer. The few
and scattered inhabitants seemed like the
people we read of who lived there in colo
NAL times, with their queer idioms and
quaint old ways. No policemen were to
be seen; there was no need for them. The
little population was pure and honest.
Peace and contentment were the rule.
Everybody had a home. and all seemed
happy. There was plenty OF game in
the woods and plenty of fish in
the surrounding waters; and the few
"city folks,' as the islanders called
them, who went there either cunning or
angling were always welcome and always
we'll taken care of. Any one who in old
times sailed from the Narrows to the Rari-
tan remembers the charming panorama
that was unrolled before his eyes rs his
boat moved along in that bay which
at certain points looked like a mag
nifcent inland lake almost entirely sur
rounded by woods. The south beach was
lined with pretty pine groves, and on the
uplands in the distance among the trees,
were some stately mansions and fine old
homesteads.
Now all that has been changed, lin
proved" The noble trees are disappearing
fast. Fox Hill has been bnre for years.
room for St. Mary's avenue, and even
the ghosts that loved to terrify travellers
on the road through the Haunted
Wood, near Gifford's, rave in turn
been scared away by scorchcrs. The
pine groves on the south beach are
nearly all gone, and their places have been
filled by long rows of Frankfurter sausage
stands, Raines law hotels, modern merry
go'rounds, and platforms upon which are
brass bands and hand-organs, each playing
its own tune, and all mingling their music
with the yells of boiSterous bathers, many of
whom have sadly regretted that they did not
heed the warning at the railway station,
Beware of Pickpockcts!' To crown these
great improvements the island has been
blessed with a double-track trolley which in
some places takes up the entire road, side
walks included, especially on the old Rich
mond road, where an appropriate notice to
pedestrians might be, Ride or Dict"
Yet, after all, the natives are not happy.
They regret the good old DAYS before the
invasion Of the barbarians." The Aqua
hongcse are sad. "'GoD made the country,
man the town." they repeat with n sigh.
&" Our island is bound to become the new
Bowcry of the Greater New York"
But these are only the gloomy views of
the few who catch their sadness from the
sea. Some of the scenery Of Staten Island
has been marred, unquestionably but there
is still enough of it left to charm all visi-
tors, and permit the natives to preserve
their pride. 1t will be very many long
years before n historian can tell n story be-
ginning with the words: Once upon u time
there was an island of Incompatible beauty
called Aquahonga."