A SUMMER ON THE SOUND
The winter of 1893 and 1894, crowded with its social pleasures,
was soon over, and with the approach of warm weather we sought a
summer home.
We had passed so many summers inland, we longed for the water--ocean
or sound, preferably the latter. Many places on the Connecticut
and Long Island shores were looked at without finding just what we
wanted, and it was not until the middle of June that we decided on
the W. H. Crossman place at Great Neck, L. I.
The place had many attractions, not the least of which was its
accessibility by boat. A sail of an hour twice a day was in itself
a great rest for me, and combined with this was a commodious,
well-furnished house; fine stable; ample grounds, handsomely laid
out; good kitchen garden, planted; plenty of fruit; gardener, and
Alderney cows on the place, and best of all a fine bathing beach
at the foot of the lawn, with the open Sound before us.
As I sat at dinner I could see the Sound steamers go by on their
way east, numerous yachts passing constantly, the Sands Point Light,
and across the Sound the New York shore.
We drove to Great Neck from New York on the drag, crossing the
Ferry to College Point.
On one side of us was King's Point, on the other the beautiful
residence of Hazen L. Hoyt. The neighbors were friendly and cordial,
all very pleasant people; the drives through the surrounding country
delightful, over good roads and under great trees that afforded
effectual shade from the sun. Later we experienced a few weeks of
torment with the mosquitoes, when out of doors, though the house
was kept free from the pests. There were days when my poor horses,
though coal black, appeared gray, so thickly were they covered with
those ravenous mosquitoes.
We entertained many of our friends during the season and I had
some good fishing. When we returned to our home in the fall, taking
everything into consideration, we voted the summer's experience a
success.
At this time we decided to give our horses a well-earned rest. They
were in perfect condition, but we thought it would be a good idea
to winter them on a farm, and as I had an acquaintance at Boonton,
N. J., who made a business of that sort of thing, I sent them to
him, bringing them back to town in the spring. They were well cared
for and came back to us like young colts.
During the winter of 1894 and 1895 we saw more of the Caines than
ever. One evening early in the season, while on our way to the
theatre together, Albert, as he sat back in the carnage, remarked,
"I wish I could afford to go to the theatre once a week all winter."
I said, "Albert, I will tell you how to fix that. You put in five
hundred dollars and I will do the same. I will do a little operating
in our market with it and we will devote the profits entirely to
amusement."
He sent me his cheque a day or two later, and out of the profits of
that little account we certainly derived a great deal of pleasure.
Every Saturday night a carriage conveyed us to the theatre, and
after the performance to the Waldorf, where we had supper. Then in
the Moorish room we took coffee and liqueurs while smoking a cigar
and chatting with our wives and the friends we frequently met.
Those little affairs cost about thirty dollars an evening, and I
so managed the account that there was always a balance on hand.
On one of these evenings an incident occurred that gave me a new
light on the character of Albert. It had its humor and I relate
it:
The Caines and ourselves were in the Moorish room. We had finished
our coffee and I had paid the check. While chatting, we were joined
by Mr. and Mrs. Curtice, Mr. and Mrs. Todd, and two other friends,
making now, with us, a party of ten. Albert, with just a little
undue haste, called a waiter and ordered liqueurs for the party.
When the check was brought him, he paid for six and sent the waiter
to me to collect for our four, the amount being eighty cents. He
wanted the amusement fund to stand part of his hospitality. The
others of the party noticed it and smiled significantly. They knew
the man better than I did.