. When old New York was young . n into a sullen roar. Wetand dripping horses flounder past; cable-cars glide along with clanging sound of [87] ABOUT OLD ST. PAULS bell; people knock umbrellas together asthey hurry on. The rain, the noise, theconfusion, the lights, bewilder the one passes the Astor House, where theconfusion is greatest, the lights most daz-zling, the crowds largest and most in ahurry, you suddenly come upon the church-yard. It is merely to cross narrow VeseyStreet—but it is like stepping from day tonight. The sight of the dark, old churchand the quiet tombs behind the
. When old New York was young . n into a sullen roar. Wetand dripping horses flounder past; cable-cars glide along with clanging sound of [87] ABOUT OLD ST. PAULS bell; people knock umbrellas together asthey hurry on. The rain, the noise, theconfusion, the lights, bewilder the one passes the Astor House, where theconfusion is greatest, the lights most daz-zling, the crowds largest and most in ahurry, you suddenly come upon the church-yard. It is merely to cross narrow VeseyStreet—but it is like stepping from day tonight. The sight of the dark, old churchand the quiet tombs behind the tall ironfence breathe of silence and comfort. Inthe daytime the tombstones are brown andfaded, but on these rainy nights the lightscreeping in through the bars make themwhite as snow. A quaint, curious corner, side by side withthe roar and rush of the city. The rustyiron railing is a barrier seeming to shut outnoise and life, as though to protect the sleepersin their well-earned rest. [88] GREENWICH VILLAGE ANDTHE MOUSE-TRAP. <mi7-
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1902
