THE JOYS OF NEW YORK LIFE
"Oh, oh, but this is a bee-autiful station!" gasped George, when the
tourists came from the train and entered the great domed concourse.
"Isn't it lovely? Look at the ceiling--all painted and lighted so fine!"
sighed Martha, with satisfaction at art thus expressed.
"I should think everybody would get lost in this great place. Do you
know where you are going, uncle?" said Jack, gazing first at the
hurrying mobs going every way across the main hall to reach the numerous
outlets.
"No, I am lost already! I shall have to ask a policeman to take us to
the station-house for the night, so we can find ourselves again,"
replied Mr. Parke with a worried air, as he went over to speak to a man
in uniform.
"Did he mean it?" whispered John to his mother.
She smiled and shook her head, as she replied: "He is going to order
taxicabs to convey us to the hotel."
"What hotel are we going to?" wondered Martha.
"Well, seeing there are scores of fine hotels in New York, it is
difficult to tell which one Mr. Parke will select," said Mrs. Parke.
Shortly after this the party was snugly seated in cabs and whirled away.
There was no signboard over the door of the hotel so the children could
not tell the name of it. At home, the hotel in the village where the
store was, had a swinging sign to say that it was "The Washington Arms
Hotel." But the uniformed men standing ready to open the doors, and the
crowds of people sitting about reading or chatting were very interesting
to the children. Palms, great easy chairs, clusters of electric
lights--lights everywhere--made the scene one to be remembered.
"Must be something like the fine balls given Washington after the war,"
whispered Martha to her companions.
"If they only had on silk dresses and powdered wigs," returned John.
It was late in the afternoon when the party arrived at the hotel. Mr.
Parke decided it would be useless to try and see any of the sights that
day. Besides, they expected Mr. Davis every moment, as he said he would
be waiting for them. But the train had been late, and he probably had
become tired of waiting in the hotel lobby.
"I don't see how any one could tire of sitting down there and watching
the fine folks," said Martha.
"If you saw things like that every day you'd soon weary of them,"
remarked Mrs. Davis.
And Martha wondered if Philadelphia were anything like New York, to make
aunty speak of seeing such sights every day.
Before she had time to question about this interesting information,
however, a cheery voice sounded outside of the large parlor they had
with the suite of six rooms, and in came Mr. Davis.
After greetings were all over, Jack began: "Daddy, are we going to do
anything to-day? We must not lose time, you know."
"Indeed no! Time is one of the things we can never find if it is once
lost!" laughed Mr. Davis, patting Jack on the head.
"Well--then----" ventured Anne eagerly.
"I procured tickets for the 'Blue Bird' at the opera house to-night,"
replied Mr. Davis, showing the tickets to prove the wonderful news.
"Oo-oh! I've never been in a real live theatre before! We've gone to
movies in the village--that's all!" cried John eagerly.
"Well, this is a real live one all right!" bragged Jack.
And so it was. It was an entrancing play, and the gowns of the audience,
and the wonderful velvet curtains, and the gold boxes and trimmings of
the opera house, all presented a dazzling sight. The visiting party had
a large box quite near the stage, so that everything could be seen and
heard.
The next morning Mrs. Graham left the others and started for her visit
to her aunt, leaving John with his friends to accompany them on their
historical tour of the city.
"The first thing I have on my program is a visit to the Statue of
Liberty. As we will be near Governor's Island, we can have a look at the
old fort there, and then on our way back to Battery Park, visit the
Aquarium," said Mrs. Parke.
So they left the hotel to walk to a car.
"Is anything going on in New York to-day?" asked John.
"Not unusual.--Why?" wondered Mrs. Davis.
"Why, I see such a lot of people all running as if they were afraid of
missing some big event," explained John.
The elders laughed. "That is the way New Yorkers always rush about. One
would think their very lives depended upon the saving of a moment's
time. And then they stand and stare at a silly advertisement, or listen
to a street-corner peddler trying to sell his wares, and not only lose
ten times the moments saved, but block the way for other sensible
pedestrians, so that every one loses time," said Mr. Parke, who was
escorting the ladies to the car.
At the head of a flight of steps, he started down.
"Where are you going, father?" cried Martha, aghast at her father's
going down the cellar steps of some big house.
"To the train! Aren't you coming?"
"Train? I thought we were going to take one of these cars," exclaimed
George, looking at a crosstown trolley.
"No, the subway takes us right down to South Ferry, where the boat
leaves for Liberty Island," replied Mr. Parke.
This was a new experience. The children stared at the ceiled arch
overhead, and wondered if it would cave in while they had to wait for a
train. Then the roar and rush of a long, snake-like string of cars swung
around the bend and came to a sudden jerky halt opposite them. It was
the northbound train.
Then it rushed and roared out again, but before any one could catch his
breath, another roar and rush sounded right before their very noses, and
a brilliantly-lighted train of cars stopped beside the platform, and the
guard shoved open the doors that had no handles or hinges.
They all hurried in, crowds behind pushing wildly to get in first.
Inside, the long rows of seats on both sides of the cars were filled
with all sorts of people, and our travellers were compelled to stand up
in the aisle.
As the train went further downtown, the crowds increased until George
said: "Every New Yorker must be travelling to South Ferry this morning."
At Brooklyn Bridge many of the passengers got out, and Mr. Parke pushed
his party into seats--one here, one there, some down the aisle in
vacancies. Before he could get back to a seat himself an entirely new
mob of passengers rushed on, and violently struggled to crowd in between
other seated fellow-beings.
"Say, Jack, I've been trying to figure up all the money this company
made since we got on the cars at Grand Central," said George to his
cousin.
"Yes, and I think it would be a good thing for you and me to plan about
our future business careers. S'pose we open a subway line like this and
run opposition. Besides making a lot of money easy, we will help the
public, 'cause there won't be such a fearful crowd going on two lines as
there is on one," said Jack with good logic.
"You're right! And what's more, we'll make our guards act politely to
folks. I saw that horrid man slam the door right in an old man's face,
as he was going to step inside! And those side doors were only opened
once since we started, yet crowds of people waited outside and got left
when the train pulled out of the station, and the guard leaned over the
platform and laughed!" declared George, who, although on his first trip,
saw conditions that make New Yorkers fume and fret, without redress
anywhere.
At this moment the guard shouted, "South Ferry! All out!" Mr. Parke and
the ladies caught hold of the children's hands to save them from being
crushed between doors and passengers, and after climbing another flight
of concrete steps, they all breathed the sweet, fresh air once more, and
Martha said:
"Don't let us ever travel that way again! It's awful!"
"But think of the millions who _have_ to travel that way, up to the
Bronx or Washington Heights, or over to Brooklyn. There is no other way
to get there except by foot, or paying several car-fares for changes of
line," said Mr. Davis, who seemed thoroughly acquainted with conditions
in New York.
However, the children forgot the annoyance of travel the moment they
found the small steamer "Liberty Island" at the wharf. They all hurried
on board, and were danced over the choppy waves of New York bay. On the
sail over to the statue, they saw Ellis Island where the immigrants
landed, Governor's Island of Revolutionary fame, the heights of Brooklyn
just on the edge of the water, and then were landed at Liberty Island.
Troops were quartered here, and everything was under military
discipline. Visitors were still permitted to the tower, but no one was
allowed to go about the camps, or to question the men.
The elevator landed the children high up where the balcony encircles the
statue, but Mrs. Parke declared that they were not going to mount the
steep and winding stairs, as nothing was to be gained by climbing up the
hundreds of steps. The view from the balcony was the same as up in the
head.
As they walked around the outside of the figure, Mr. Parke told the
children some interesting items about the statue.
"Bartholdi's statue named 'Liberty' was presented by the French people
to the United States in 1885. It is the largest statue ever built. It
was conceived by the famous French sculptor whose name it bears. It is
said that the face is a likeness of his mother, who was his model for
this renowned figure.
"It took eight years to construct the statue, and it weighed, when
completed, 440,000 pounds. Of this, 146,000 pounds is copper and the
balance iron and steel. The latter two metals were used to construct the
skeleton framework of the inside.
"The mammoth electric light held aloft in the hand of this giantess is
305 feet above tide-water. The height of the figure is 152-1/2 feet; the
pedestal is 91 feet, and the foundation 52 feet, 10 inches. Forty
persons can stand at the same time in the top of the mighty head, which
is 14-1/2 feet in diameter. The index finger of the hand is eight feet
long, and the nose three and three-fourth feet. The colossus of
Rhodes--once regarded as a world-wonder for its great size--is a pigmy
in comparison with this figure."
The children listened to these stupendous figures, that gave them a good
idea of the great work done on Liberty Statue, and were all the more
interested in seeing the giant steel beams and bolts that held up the
skeleton of the figure.
After they had gone down again and were walking about the base, while
waiting for the return of the steamer to convey them back to New York,
they listened to Mr. Parke describing the method of lighting at night,
so that the entire statue seemed bathed in light. They looked at the
great globes of electric lights grouped at various points of the stone
parapet, and wondered at the unseen power that would reflect such
brilliant illumination up at the figure as to make it plainly visible
for miles across the sea.
On the sail back, the children saw the old fort where prisoners were
kept herded together in great masses when the British took possession
of New York and Long Island.
The Aquarium was visited, and after admiring the strange and beautiful
fish in the glass tanks, the children found great sport waiting for the
sea-lion to utter his fearful roar, as he flopped into the large tank of
water, scattering water in every direction and thoroughly sprinkling the
unwary who stood too near the railing.
Then Mr. Parke led his party across Battery Park to a triangular green.
"Who knows what this is?" asked he.
"Why, it's another stairway to the subway cellar," said Martha, who
spied the sign over the entrance.
The ladies laughed, for they knew the right answer to the question; but
the children had not the slightest clue to it.
"This is Old Bowling Green. Here the Dutch used to meet daily and play
bowls, while the wives and children sat on the rude wooden benches
placed on the outside and chatted or watched the game."
"Are there any more old places like this in New York?" asked John.
"Yes, I thought we might go over and visit the place called 'Ye Olde
Taverne,' that has been carefully kept from mercenary realty investors
all these years. There you will find the quaint old style of building in
vogue during the time of Howe's victory over the American forces in New
York. If the old beams and wood could but talk, what interesting tales
of treason, patriotism, plotting and celebrating, it could tell us.
"As we will be right near the Stock Exchange after we leave Fraunces'
Tavern, I will see if it is possible to have you visit and watch the
buying and selling that goes on in the 'pit' every day. The Exchange
closes at three, so we must not delay, if we would visit this scene."
The children followed eagerly as Mr. Parke led the way across Broadway
and down lower Pearl Street to the quaint old gable-roofed building
still intact after all these years. They gazed wide-eyed at this relic
of Washington's period, and felt that the hero of their readings and
play was very real indeed.
Coming out on Broad Street, they then went to the Stock Exchange
building, but Mr. Parke discovered that no visitors were admitted there
since war was declared. Only those known to be in business on the stock
market were permitted to enter.