New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1903-09-13

the river. lies the great tenement city. life and
death clashing in its attics. love and horror
buried in its cellars. the most thckly populated
section of the globe the abiding place Of a hun
bred tribes and races At o'clock the factories
disgorge the mass of toilers. men and women.
girls and boys, little children. which they swaI-
lowed up in the morning and extracted vitality
from all day. And this disgorged mass Of hu-
manity. this army of slaves to the passion for
underwear with one accord and a sound Of
many waters troubled. turns eastward toward
the tenement city. At every cross street the
multitudes burst into the BOwery like a flood
let loose. They cross the broad thoroughfare IN
black swarms blocking travel. split into irreSu-
lar sections by passing cars. And then the van
guard is swallowed up in the hivinS tenement
town beyond. But there seems no end to the
streams out of the west they come and cross
and vanish into that wOfully tiny section Of the
free earths crust, and more follow, ana more
and more. How does that teeming. sweating
hive hold them all? VIII they never stop pour
ing into it? Look up as fer as eye can see. down
as far the other way, the BOwery is black with
the swarming army. the great daily migration
hOmeward.
Homei What chance for homes where they
abide? What place for u family where there
are so many children? What opportunity Oh
neighbOrliness where there are 50 many nelsh-
bors? What hope for art where there Is so
much ignorance, for civilization where there IS
so little soap? Yet hear them; they are chat
tering in half a hundred tongues, singing IN
quite as many keys. laughing, shouting Ihey
too. must try to be happy: theirs. too, is the
great quest! At night they will be on the
streets, at their poor theatres. in their dance
halls and cafes: you may see them. searching
searching for something to do. for their birth
right to be happy. But many of them you Will
not see, though they also are searching. 1t is
better that you should not. Some of these in
visible ones girls, young girls That hthe
trim figure Of a maid who crossed the Bowery
with head held high at O'Clock Is OF theIr
number 1t is better you should go home now,
as do, and shut yourself in with the pity. the
horror of it all You. too. must be happy even
in New-York; it is your birthright But not
just yet; not tonight l think.
Where Ignorance is bliss It's folly to get ex-
cited about it; where ignorance is vice and
squaIor it is indecent not 10; but have my own
wellbeing and comfort TO look after. also. SO a
truce now to discussion alike of the Bowery ana
Broadway; and since we must perforce remain
in New-York far from green fields and quiet
woods and nature and health. all hail to my
castle, my pipe and my books.
1 once went away from New-York into the
country, and sat at night on 2 NSW-F-IlSi'tII
hillside. alone with my God, my pipe and the
whippOorwis In the thicket below me. on the
height above, far out through the dark valley.
rose the long clear. half sad. part cheerful
whistles of the nightingales of the North Why
must silly men be forever writing nature
books l said TO myself. What do / care
what a whippoOrvilI looks like. when he
builds his nest or where Why should anybody
eareo 1t were quite as well if the whippoorwiH
had no body at all so long as his whistle lived.
That is the important thing, the only thing
that matters. for it Is the soul Of the bird and
his environment, the common sense ana not very
poignant melancholy of the New-Ensland sum-
mer night And who needs nature book TO
tell him what this whistle sounds like, still less
to read its meaning
Then l looked out over the dark still world.
that swung visibIy eastward under the patient
stars. My soul taken up into immensely
"D-n ali bOoks,' / added. aloud
That, Of course. is the healthy view-outside
Of New-York But in New-York books are es-
sential for salvation. which is why they
SO little read here. They are, indeed. save on
the few occasions when a true drama is pro-
duced or Il noble concert given. the only springs
of water in this thirsty place. New-YOrkers. as
a rule prefer champagne whiskey; but long
ago ceased TO regard with much attention, GER
tainly TO address with a personal note. the peo-
pie who be lined up to rule. If there be
any TO whom the Rialto is vain and the East
Ga