_August_.--In the big city awhile. Even the height of the dog-days,
there is a good deal of fun about New York, if you only avoid fluster,
and take all the buoyant wholesomeness that offers. More comfort, too,
than most folks think. A middle-aged man, with plenty of money in his
pocket, tells me that he has been off for a month to all the swell
places, has disburs'd a small fortune, has been hot and out of kilter
everywhere, and has return' d home and lived in New York city the last
two weeks quite contented and happy. People forget when it is hot here,
it is generally hotter still in other places.
New York is so situated, with the great ozonic brine on both sides, it
comprises the most favorable health-chances in the world. (If only the
suffocating crowding of some of its tenement houses could be broken
up.) I find I never sufficiently realized how beautiful are the upper
two-thirds of Manhattan island. I am stopping at Mott Haven, and have
been familiar now for ten days with the region above One-hundredth
street, and along the Harlem river and Washington heights. Am dwelling a
few days with my friends Mr. and Mrs. J. H. J., and a merry houseful of
young ladies. Am putting the last touches on the printer's copy of my
new volume of "Leaves of Grass"--the completed book at last. Work at it
two or three hours, and then go down and loaf along the Harlem river;
have just had a good spell of this recreation. The sun sufficiently
veil'd, a soft south breeze, the river full of small or large shells
(light taper boats) darting up and down, some singly, now and then
long ones with six or eight young fellows practicing--very inspiriting
sights. Two fine yachts lie anchor'd off the shore. I linger long,
enjoying the sundown, the glow, the streak'd sky, the heights,
distances, shadows. _Aug. 10._--As I haltingly ramble an hour or two
this forenoon by the more secluded parts of the shore, or sit under
an old cedar half way up the hill, the city near in view, many young
parties gather to bathe or swim, squads of boys, generally twos or
threes, some larger ones, along the sand-bottom, or off an old pier
close by. A peculiar and pretty carnival--at its height a hundred lads
or young men, very democratic, but all decent behaving. The laughter,
voices, calls, re-responses--the springing and diving of the bathers
from the great string-piece of the decay'd pier, where climb or stand
long ranks of them, naked, rose-color'd, with movements, postures ahead
of any sculpture. To all this, the sun, so bright, the dark-green shadow
of the hills the other side, the amber-rolling waves, changing as the
tide comes in to a trans-parent tea-color--the frequent splash of the
playful boys, sousing--the glittering drops sparkling, and the good
western breeze blowing.