The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1903-12-23

there seems to preside sustaining spirit.
You can't squeeze 1t out in the sardine-
box elevator, nor dampen it in ankle-deep
slush nor fret it away in the grating cash.
trolleys that still bear off the government
Autographs when all estimates are over
stepped.
The hub of the city in this Christmas
shopping week is Twenty-third street. One
long spine, studded with shops, up and
down Sixth avenue at this point. directs
the whole activity of the 100000 of
Greater New York. For a mile, from the
old shopping center of Fourteenth street
up to Herald square, the new b1eastwork
of the big stores, the people are wearing
the tagging down. From breakfast until
theater time thousands on thousands of
Christmas givers swarm like ants in and
out of the huge caravansaries along the
route. Every inch of curb and foot of
cobble is disputed by hundreds of trim
coupes. In turbulent sea the shopping
bound vehicles toss backward and for
ward, eddying about and dashing up their
elegant freight at the gaping maws of the
shops. Down from the elevated railroad
chutes is vomited a constant black flood
of counter-bound humanity. Over the plat
forms of passing street cars great clumps
of shoppers are thrown off or injected Up
and down the broad sidewalks moves a
constant army of jostling, eager tireless
men, women and children.
NOT AN EASY THING.
To thread the streets is not easy. To
navigate the straits between the counters
inside is at times an impossibility. You
back from your goal at the counter, and
clutch to hold it. You have scarcely
marked the probable location of the thing
you're after before you are swept back or
! beyond it. At all times you must give
\ your toes to be stepped on, your RIBS to
be bruised, your breath to be crushed out.
But, withal, a temper is seldom shop
lifted.
What are the presents? Oh, any and
every present you ever heard of to begin
with Then, any and every present that
anyone in the city ever had or heard
of. And on top of that, thousands of
presents that no one but the gentlemen
who invent presents in Switzerland, India
and all over the world ever heard Of 1t
is the toy display that makes this gil
gantic babar look distinctly a thing of
Christmas. Of course, one glimpse sets
the children wild. You can be sure Of
one hand of the child you're dragging
through the toy maze. Its head, eyes,
ears, feet and off-arm, though, are stray
ing beyond control. And yet the grown
ups never seem to tire Of the toy para
disc.
1t seems this year as though there was
a toy miniature of every real thing in
the world. They range from the 5000
electric railway with six trains, stations
switches and four tracks. which / saw
young Cornelius Vanderbilt nor his head
for, to the old-time rag dolls that the
subway laborer gives his spare nickels for
down on the East Side Everywhere you
will find Santa Claus. He towers four
stories high in the inner court of one
of the big stores. He circulates in cos
tune about another with presents for the
children.
In a hurried trip along the line YES
terday saw Charlie Schwab, the steel
eX-king, noddlng beaming o. k as two
shopgirls held up, one after another. and
laid away hundreds of dolls and toys of
every description. The jolly steelmaker
was having them shipped. I was told
to orphan asylums in his home town and
state. John w. Gates was plunging his
thick fingers through a tray of thousand
dollar baubles at jewelry store. Up on
the Waldorf route of the millionaire's
shops l came across Mrs. Fish sitting in
Judgment on the kind of bric-a-brac YOU
shudder to think of about your feet or
elbows.
So, million on million, the Christmas
gifts are mounting up this week. and the
tide Of free-spent cash will only slack
when Christmas eve releases the army of
exhausted shopgirls and handlers. But
there will be a Christmas for these slaves
too. So everybody is keeping cheerful.
L. G. MEAD.