Virginian-pilot. (Norfolk, Va.) 1898-1911, 1899-01-05


open sides, which show you half oxen
hanging. each in it's own compartment,
from the roof. Through the alleys
about Little Britain you may follow q.
steady stream OF statesmen, brisker
than the vegetable people Of Covent
Garden. And the big market is a blaze
of light and color. 1t might be a scene
from an empire ballet. Corridors of
shining meat-<with crimson lean and
dazzling yellow fat: among them por-
tiers with whole sides of beef. whole
sleep, whole pigs with shut eye-slits
and fore-trotterS crossed in an atti-
tude of prayer. In long white mackin-
tosh coat each salesman stands before
his meat-row on row of il. street on
street van on van outside. little city
of gas jets and raw meat.
But London is not all belly; the gem
eral postoffice also is an island of gas
light, and the red mail carts are lum-
bering off after the newspapers to-
ward the early trains. But 20 on to
Cheapside. and at last You come to
what you sought-London asleep. Here,
indeed. the city is paved with silence
The very policeman hardly breaks IL.
for most of his time he Is bending
down over locks TO see If anybody is
a-burgling. You can look down glades
OF houses. all asleep. and see not
single living thing. All the time, dim
as the light is. you find yourselves
discovering beauties and interests
passed hundred times unsupported in
the broad light. The city churches, By
day those survivals of a dead past,
now become the focuses OF hitherto
unnoticed streetscapes. The bank is
mean and the only interesting thing
about the Royal Exchange is its grass
hopper. But a church of St Peter let's
serene classical face into the archi-
lecture of Cornhill that digniNes all the
street. and the key on the top of ii is
the dominant note of n whole eye full.
Near II you see an ornate Gothic porch
where, till now. you have only seen or
nate stockholders. Queerest of all Is
little country Quaker meeting house,
right in the middle of Bishopsgate
street. a couple of very old shops for
its lower story, going by the name of
81. Ethelburga's. We seem to have
Mr. Kensit. or Father Black. or some
other church brawler; but whoever set
eyes on 1T in Bishopsgate street?
AS DAWN BREAKS.
Time has been crawling on you-you
must try walking aimlessiy all night
before you can realize how slowly. Now
1T is half past 5. Pacing half asleep
working man, striding smartly, his
dinner in red handkerchief Behind
comes another and another, then two
then a group. You notice that they ali
step onward as with q purpose, so diff
fereptiy- from the loafers of the night.
These must be morning people. begin
ming their day. not ending it. Then you
turn the corner of Liverpool street
and thick colume of men is stream
ms out of the Great Eastern station.
heauing across the road. plurging for
ward into the streets all round
And suddenly. all at once, IL Is
morning. Dawn steals shyly under
electric lamps. but now You see that
the sky has lightened from dark gray
to nearly white. Things begin to
clothe themselves in their day colors.
You feel the breath of the morning
on your face. and its indefnable stir
ring in your blood-yes even in Fins
bury you can feel 1t. People crowd
around every corner. from every OPEN
ing as at cue. They might be the
chorus filling up the stage of an opera
From Broad street now. as we'll as
| Liverpool street. on foot on BICYCLES.
leaping down from the tailboards OF
| railway wagons, they come and come.
| A public house. closed a. moment ago,
| is suddenly open.
A TORRENT OF PEOPLE.
For two hours they pour in steadily:
them out till succeeded trainloads
merge into one continuous torrent Of
people. Nearly all men, which is char
acterstic of the land where the work.
man brings Il cup OF tea to his wife s
bedside; abroad Il large proportion
would be women. The wonder is where
they ell go to. For tholyh London is
clearly awake and has already abb
sorbed its thousands. it hardly seems
less empty than before. a few men Mt
work on building. an electrical engl-
neer on doorstep, just getting to work
at his dynamos, man removing n
dust bin-that is all, so FAR. London Is
so vast that they soak in no deeper
than this.
But all the fringe is waking now, and
every station pours in its fresh hordes.
Presently the shops are opening. The
first tall hat rises splendidly on the
scene, and London is awake indeed.