Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-10-20


be entirely out, but he's always down.
That location is 'T'' which Is seldom
crossed by polite people.
The "T"' is formed by historic old Bayard
street meeting Elizabeth street under circum-
stances which would amaze the venerable Dutch
burghers whose farms once spread their green
pasture lands over lower New York.
Just above It, the Bowery vainly seeks to
hide its tatters. Its glowing elevated grllmbles
with trafic. It's buns drift around the corner
from Chinatown and loiter down the gentle hill
toward Mulberry, where modern childrens
playground abuts ghetto street Of venerable
pushearts and cheap stores and tenements.
All about the playground fence men crunble
on benches, seemingly without care In the
world.
Bayard street, down which they must pass, is
the sort Of thoroughfare that stage sets and
cinema producers seek to recreate when pre-
senting scene Of drab drama. Seldom do
they succeed. Bayard defies duplication.
It's solid southern front tells its own mute
story of human decline toward the gutter.
Here, Tapping In the breeze like gaudy bits
Of sail cloth, are the abandoned fineries OF
other days. A gilt-trimmed doorman's uni
form, with sparkling brass buttons: band
masters coat Of military blue; navy uniform.
policemen's, firemen's, theater ushers'. bell
hops; an entire store front Tapping with multi
colored fabrics, with gold braid and bright but
tons. Almost obscuring the gold lettering,
which reads, Make and Abe
lust across the street, the Beggar's Bazaar
swings into brisk activity as the morning
advances.
Like the flea market of Paris, or the
thieves market Of London, the source of the
wares is obscure The final fate is even more
obscure. For here the blind trade on the blind,
the parasite meets his fellow parasite and the
triumph of the ragamuffn Is complete.
Barter actually is carried ON often without
the exchange Of money. As Indians gave Wanl-
pun and as savages take beads 50 here an old
comb trades for mouth organ and a tin
watch goes for dilapidated belt. Sometimes
a few pennies are tossed in to close bargain.
There are no stalls in the Beggar's Bazaar.
There are no shelves nor counters. The traders
arrive with ancient neckties swung over their
arms with much-worn shoes dangling from
their wrists, with battered straw hats laid upon
the curbStone with rags and tatters and shirts
and old toothbrusl1es; with nicked safety razoFs
and spindle ends Of shaving brushes; with
rickety valises which, when opened reveal an
array Of merchandise such rs only garbage
can could yield.
Here, by the way, you win find the salvsging
of those scores Of ghost-lAe cronies and tatsered
men who IN the early hours before the dawn,
creep through the murhy, diffuSed light Of the
city scavengtng the garbage cans. Many OF
these scavengers are gathering their daily
stock in trade; discarded neckties and shirts;
cracked photograph records; old pens and
glasses and dishes: denied cigarette cases and
trick lighters; soiled handkerchiefs and dirty
linens.
It all shows up at the Beggar's Bazaar-All
the discards OF Manhattan; all the unbeliev-
able articles destined for a city dump.
BY noon the tumbling fronts of abandoned
buildings, the stoops of tenements, the side
walks and the streets themselves are blocked.
Hundreds Of traders begin to mill in and out
Of the crowd, displaying their tawdry wares
with all the pride of salesman in Fifth
avenue diamond house. s4 =
Their first efforts are toward the buns, the
jobless hoaters, the down -and-outers who drift
by! This failing, they bicker and decker among
themselves. They bargain and haggle, and with
the greatest Of impersonality they thrust their
rags and tatters at each other. The average