New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1906-10-14
NEW YORK'S CHARM.
To One from Paris 1t Is Not Ap-
pdrent at First.

To the Partisan who sees New York for the
first time 1t must appear a wilderness or
sprawling ugliness. He is shocked rather than
| dazzled by most of the things with which he
| is expected to be impressed. and his eyes. nose
| and ears are constantly and cruelty assailed by
sights. smells and sounds to which New York
| ers through long familiarity oblivious. "A
| big iron bazaar and dirty beyond beliefr' was
| the verdict Of a Frenchman who fed from It
| in dsmay and disgust at the end Of twenty
| four hours: and. while not every Frenchman who
arrives in New York takes to his heels In this
inglorous fashion the criticism IS fairly typical
| of the way New York strikes the fastidious
Gaul.
To the American returning to New York with
point of view gained by long residence in
Paris the New World metropolis must spell
disillusion. The squalid. sagging. lurching
wood-and-iron wharf line-the thing above all
others he would most willingly have missed
confronts him his arrival practically unaI-
tered. except that 1t seems to him. in COMPARE
son with the trim and tidy banks of the Seine
and the clean substantial stone docks Of Havre
he has just left. insufferable than his
memory pictured 1t. Everything else has
changed. and changed. 1t seems to him. for the
worse.
Trinity spire and the Produce Exchange tower.
which used to refresh his vision downtown. are
and the beautiful lines OF the Brooklyn Bridge
are broken by these same intruders. The
Quisite City Hall suffers likewise from their
proximity, and will soon be perceived but dimly.
like jewel at the bottom of we'll The Bow
cry. which was erstwhie gay and piquant with
glitter AMI gaud. has degenerated into sodden
conlmonplaceness. Broadway from City Hall
to l4th streeD has become completely Semitic,
without having acquired thereby scrap of
Semitic charm.
The old fashioned dignity of Washington
Square has been irretrievably compromised by
modern corporation building which adds insult
to injury by wearing on it's facade the Latin
motto "Perstando ct prestando utilitati." Fur
thermore, this 'nsolent structure so dwarfs the
Washington Arch to give ii the artificial air
of the frosted showpece of a confectioner's win
dow. Union Square, which could pretend
to gentility beauty. but which had. notwitA-
standing. an agreeable little presence Of its own.
has been rendered positively uncanny by the
erection Of a number of lean. spectral horrors.
The symmetry of somnoIent, unpretentiouS
Stuyvesant Square and the coziness of Gramercy
Park, where The Players live. have each becn
sadly marred. Madison Square. which was long.
and with reason, the most loved spot in the city,
Is now with Its pagan temple bearing Christian
symbols, its brownstone church in marble pen
and it's far-famed Flatiron Buil0ng) a fit sub
ject for colossal laughter.
Fifth avenue (below the park has lost It's
restful, II sombre. brownstone unity by Its
conditional surrender to retail trade The for
merly compact "Tenderloin" has been harried
into spreading its unsavorness over an Indefinite
area. The ancient slovenness of upper Broad
dotted.
The limitations of the narrow park. which
used TO be rather successfully disguised.
perpetually in evidence. by reason of the multi
plcation Of soaring apartment houses along it's
sides
Venerable Columbia which forsook. perforce
It's sleepy. artistic Madison avenue quadrangle
when II decided to become aggressive appears
callow and crude In the splendid isolation OF Its
wind swept hill, and must continue so 10 appear
until it contrive to conceal its pathetic al
most indecent nakedness by trees. or can per-
suade the city TO move up around it,
The Hall of Fame, which has refused to open
Its doors to such world-glories as Whitman and
Poe, is as unimpressive as this provincial at
titUde demands.
The Bronx. though happily saved from an
inhalation by the Park Department is no longer
the ideal and idyllic refuge it of yore. Long
stretches OF the Palisades have been quarried
out OF existence. Brooklyn. always a desert
has expanded into limitless desert
In word this returned New Yorker find,
few familiar landmarks: and the few he does
find seem TO have lost most of their original |
meaning. He is as much dazed and puzzled by
twenty years sleep. Nobody resides does bust
ness. dimes drinks In the same places as be- !
Tore. NOBODY frequents the pleasure re- |
sorts NOBODY saunters along the same walks. |
1t is not safe for him to make a business or |
soclal CALL or to set out for restaurant. a |
chophouse, a theatre or a club without con-
sulting the directory In advance; and even so |
ne risks having his trouble for his pains, mas
Ihuch as there Is more than a chance that a /
issued
After he so far RECEIVERS from the shock OF his |
initial disenchantment however. to be able |
10 take note OF details he finds that there is |
some balm in Gilead. after all. At the end OF |
month he begins to catch the spirit OF New
York. and at the end OF six months he has |
come completely under its spell and loves IN
as Montaigne loved the Paris OF his day, with I
all It's molss and warts."-Alvin F. Sanborn In |
the Atlantic Monthly.
DUCK SHOOTING IN THE KLoNoIkE.