(LIBRA** > ***igj*yo , SAHWfOO I STREET TYPES GREAT AMERICAN CITIES BY S1GMUND KRAUSZ WITH LITERARY SKETCHES BY WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS AND A PREFACE BY DR. EM1L G. HIRSCH 1896 THE WERNER COMPANY CHICAGO NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY S. KRAUSZ. COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY THE WERNER COMPANY. INTRODUCTION. In placing this collection of Character Studies before the pub- lic I hope that it will meet with the recognition and hearty appreciation of such as have daily and yearly noted these types in the crowded streets of our American cities. To collect these studies in such shape and execution as to make the volume a desirable acquisition to every lover of art, it was not sufficient merely to take the kodak and start out to get a snap- shot at a desired subject, but I was compelled for weeks and months to haunt the crowded thoroughfares, the fashionable ave- nues and the dingy alleys for such characters as seemed to suit my purpose; and when I had found them, persuasion, appeals to their vanity and very frequently pecuniary considerations had to be resorted to in order to induce them to visit a studio in the garb and equipments of their daily vocation. The majority of my characters lacking the educational quali- fications necessary to grasp my ideas, I had many failures, caused by their unnatural, awkward and stubborn behavior in front of the camera, before I had sufficient material to issue this collection. I do not wish to speak about the many ludicrous and unpleas- ant experiences my self-imposed task has brought upon me; suf- fice it to say that after enduring frequent insults, escaping a fight with a courageous dude, being taken for a medical student in search of subjects for the dissecting-room, and barely avoiding arrest through a misunderstanding by a female Italian type, I am happy to present the ' 'STREET TYPES OK AMERICAN CITIES' ' to the favorable notice of the public, who I am sure will find the same pleasure in looking them over as I had despite the many draw- backs in finding them, for it is an eternal truth: " In arte voluptas?' SIGMUND KRAUSZ. PREFACE. It is with great pleasure that I comply with the request of the artist to whose happy thought we owe this presentation of the " Street Types of Great American Cities," to introduce by a few explanatory words the creations of his muse to the general public. It has been said that the American cities have no individuality of their own ; that the visitor who has tarried a few weeks in one of the larger centers of population can well save all further time and trouble in studying other cities, as every city is but a copy of every other, all being built on one and the same monotonous plan and all showing the same general features without essential variations. This generalization is more brilliant than true. On the surface, indeed, our large emporia may in so far differ from the European capitals as having all, without exception, arisen from similar historical conditions, and, being devoted to industrial or mercantile enterprises, they lack that differentiated flavor of varied historical associations, and do not display the impress of individual minds and wills which are more or less to be expected where the monarch and not the people, where military considera- tions and not the necessities of commercial activities, where the interests of the court and not the wants of the toilers are the prime considerations. But with all these historic factors, decisive and weighty no doubt, the patient observer, not content to abide by surface impressions, will speedily learn to his great gratifica- tion that within the general similarity due to these causes our American cities still own qualities which at once mark them off as distinct not only from the towns of Europe, but also one from the other. Who will despise the day of small things ? The men who meet us in this book are not of the order of those who control the destinies of a city by the vastness of the enterprises they direct, but all of them in their modest sphere contribute their mite to the active rush which ebbs and flows along our busy thoroughfares. Many of the figures which in this collection extend to us their welcome greeting are old acquaintances of ours, nay, friends whose occasional absence from their wonted haunts and places incite concern for their well-being. None of them but brings us something, be it the hard-pressed letter-carrier or the sooty coal- man; be it the musician or the pedlar; they belong to us. Who would miss them? In their very countenances is mingled self- reliance with the desire to be of help to others, and on all is painted the determination to make the most of what opportunity offers. The artist has caught the inspiration of his subjects. This book can therefore not fail to commend itself as a most val- uable souvenir. A deep thinker it was who said, within the shell was the animal, behind the book the man. His sentiment applies to cities as well. Behind the piles of iron and steel and granite and mortar are the men. These much more than the edifices which they erect are characteristic of a city. And these humble street types are without doubt to be numbered among the men and women who have made and are making our Great Cities; they are the promise of still greater achievements to be garnered in the near future. EMII, G. HIRSCH. INDEX OF SUBJECTS. SUBJECT. Bicycle Girl Extry ! All about the West-side Murder ! One of the Finest . . . Can't fool dis Niggah ! . . Tennis Girl ..... Trained Nurses ..... Oh golly, but I'se Happy ! . Matches ! Flypaper ! ! Letter-Carrier Our Beerman In the Employ of the Gas Company Competitors ..... Statuetti! The Rev. George Washington Snowball From Far-away Damascus Buy da Papah, Signor? A Disciple of ^Esculap The Old Soldier .... French Chewing Candy! A Fakir Fresh, Hot Chicken Tamales ! John The Milkman Rushing the Growler Rapid Messenger Service Streetsweeper Berries ! Berries ! ! Blackberries ! ! ! Hallelujah Lasses .... Tough Accordion Player .... Nice Feather- Dusters ! ... The Popcornman Schoolgirls ..... Banana Pedler ... . . The Coalman . . ., . Scissors ! . . . . . Bill Poster . . . Out for a Stroll .... Ah There ! The Blind Beggar i Harp and Fiddle . . . . Ragpickers Organgrinder A Musical Family . . . . Shine! The Iceman AUTHOR. Krausz, Sigmund King, Ben Armstrong, Le Roy Read, Opie Krausz, Sigmund King, Ben Krausz, Sigmund Clover, Sam T. Armstrong, Le Roy . Krausz, Sigmund Head, Franklin II . Horton, George Krausz, Sigmund Maitland, James Krausz, Sigmund McGovern, John Krausz, Sigmund Pritchard, Edward R. Krausz, Sigmund Ritchie, John Whitford, C. B. ' Welch, Frank B. Krausz, Sigmund Waterloo, Stanley Schierbrand, Wolf von Krausz, Sigmund Schierbrand, Wolf vcn Krausz, Sigmund Horton, George ' . Armstrong, Le Roy Banks, Charles Eugene Blum, Edgar C. Krausz, Sigmund Blum, Edgar C. PAGE. 9 13 17 21 25 29 33 37 4i 45 49 53 57 61 65 69 73 77 81 85 89 93 97 101 105 109 H3 117 121 125 129 133 137 141 145 149 153 157 161 165 169 173 177 181 185 189 GIRL BICYCLE GIRL, Though a " fin de siecle" product she is not necessarily a new woman. If not always a picture of feminine grace on the wheel, she represents, as a rule, vigor and health off the wheel. The world has arrived at a point where it does not look askance at a maiden devoted to healthful, invigorating sport. The bicycle girl does not necessarily loose any of the sweet feminine graces that the sturdier sex so much admires, for indulg- ing in an outdoor exercise which can only be beneficial to her con- stitution. If " mens sana in corpere sano" applies to man why not to woman ? If the lord of creation needs a sturdy constitution to fulfill his part during his short sojourn in the universe why not woman ? Long enough has she been kept from the pleasures and benefits of athletic exercises by the conventionalities of society. She can only be congratulated for breaking loose from long es- tablished prej udices. The world will be all the better off for it, as the result can be no other than happier matrimony and strong and vigorous motherhood. The question has been raised as to the moral influence of bi- cycle exercise upon our girls. Some have condemned the whole sport on account of a few exceptional cases that have come under their observation, where a dire result might perhaps be traced in- directly to the innocent bicycle. To condemn a healthful exercise on such trivial grounds is like throwing a beautiful apple away on account of a small speck of dirt on its skin. Looking at our bi- cycle girl in the illustration one cannot but receive the impress- ion that the American girl can, under all circumstances, well take care of herself. Give her, therefore, more elbow-room. She is all right ! 10 BICYCLE GIRL. ALL ABOUT THE EXTRY! ALL ABOUT THE WEST SIDE MURDER ! ! / Dar's er mighty 'culiah newsboy Dat gets mixed in wid de res' His ha'r is so't o' crinky, En dar's tatters in 'is dress. Ole Africa is in 'is face, De chalk is in 'is eye, Yet far above all other waifs I hear 'is plaintive cry. For hit's early in the mohnin' w'en he's rakin' in de dimes Intah Ocean, H'yarld, Trebune, Globe, Mohnin' News, en Times. En de later evening papers Brings about the startling wail: All about de double murder in De Journal, Pos' , en Mail. 14 EXTRY ! ALL ABOUT THE \VEST SIDE MURDER ! J5 ONE OF THE FINEST, The moral status of the policeman is the moral status of the city he serves. Complain as you will of the scandalous conduct of this or that member. Mourn at the seeming general depravity of the men who wear the blue. They are yet a reflex of the peo- ple who employ them. When Cromwell ruled, officers were praying men. When Louis was king, they intrigued for mis- tresses. In America they travel on the average lines of intelli- gence, honesty and fidelity followed by the mass. Policemen are men. They unlike poets are made, not born. What a man was in former life he is as a policeman. Put- ting on blue, thatching his poll with a helmet, filling his hand with a club or a revolver does not make him braver, of abler, or more honest than he was at the beginning. Also, it cannot make him worse. Remember in your sweeping condemnation the officers who stand indifferent to weather; who brave danger every time they help a child across the street; who invite mutilation every time they make an arrest; who are knit of the fibre of rectitude and strength, and who stand for the best that is in their employer. Remember, as there are heights of holiness, there are sinks of in- iquity. Laving in these polluted waters are human brutes whose venomous hate is leveled at no one with such deadly purpose as at the officer. They delight in ' ' slugging ' ' him. They are the tigers of a city's jungle. They rend without reason only be- cause they hate that typified Right. They would peril their life to injure it. They would give their life to obliterate it. Between the Bad, who hate him upon one side, and the Good, who distrust him on the other, the life of " One of the Finest " is far from serene. ONK OF THE FINEST. 19 21 CAN'T FOOL DIS NIGGAH! It is evident that it would not be a very easy matter to " fool dis niggah." With the inherent imitative faculty of the negro, he has caught the shrewdness of his associates has learned their tune and has added to it a few notes of his own. The keen and cold nip of necessity in the atmosphere of his environment has turned the wonted blitheness of his nature into semi-cynicism ; the simple credulity of his fathers, the faith and trustfulness which lightened many a galling load and tempered the sting of the slave-driver's lash, has found no lodgment in his doubting nature. He is a materialist, and accepts no theory; if he tells a truth it is because he believes it will pay better than a lie. And yet, he has one of the brightest of virtues kindness of heart. He is a new type of outcast a chunk of black driftwood on a city's restless tide. 22 CAN'T FOOL, DIS NIGGAH ! 23 JNNB CIQL TENNIS GIRL. The jaunty cap over the fluffy hair, dressed in an airy suit which is exceedingly becoming, her face flushed with the excite- ment of the interesting sport, she walks with elastic steps off the tennis grounds. As she carelessly swings the raquet in her hand, her springy gait as well as the luster of her eyes and the healthy color of her cheeks betray the perfect state of her physical condition. L,ike all women devoted to outdoor sports she has a certain independent air about her. While not* so prominent a type on the streets of the city as the bicycle girl, she may be fre- quently seen on the lawns of the fine residence streets, and many a passer-by will stop for a moment and admire her graceful mo- tions as she flits over the grass, or ; Bends her lithe body in graceful curves to receive a high ball; , The Tennis girl is anything if not picturesque, and in this respect she certainly outranks her sister of the wheel. She has been made the object of the camera as well as the brush of the artist, and many are the songs that have been written in her praise. Looking at our picture, who would say that the tennis girl does not deserve all the nice epitaphs that have been bestowed on her, or that all the pretty things said about her are not really true? As an embodiment of feminine grace I vote her the palm, and say: She is my ideal ! Would I were hers ! PAINED NUR5E5 TRAINED NURSES. What a blessing to humanity the noble sisterhood of trained nurses is! Clad in their plain brown, gray or dark-blue habit, they remind one of the Sisters of Mercy. And that is what they are to a certain extent; for money can hardly repay the tender care and unlimited patience which they extend to the sick at the hos- pitals and private homes. If it takes innate predilection and ab- solute devotion to succeed in a profession, the trained nurse has to have both in the highest degree. A course of two, or even three years, in one of the training schools will not make a nurse, in the true sense of the word, out of a woman, unless she be de- voted to the work with her whole Hi eart and being. Nurses, like poets, are born and not made, and it is quite a difference to the sick whether a nurse takes care of them whose heart is in her work or one who, like an automaton, simply takes the tempera- ture and administers with clock-like regularity the prescribed doses of medicine. Ah ! a good nurse is like an angel around the suffering, and if her touch cannot heal, her presence can certainly alleviate and help to endure the pains of the sick-bed. The trained nurses are street types only in the sense that they are met with frequently on the thoroughfares of the city, where they are easily distinguished by their modest and nun-like garb. When they are seen on the streets it is generally to seek relaxa- tion from the arduous duties of the sick-room and to catch a breath of fresh air so as to gain new strength for the vigil of the coming night. God bless them ! 30 TRAINED NURSES. 33 OH GOLLY, BUT FSE HAPPY! Talk about de possum en de rabbit en de deer. En bake leg o' mutton. En hog-jole en greens. Talk about de turkey en feesh de niggers spear. W'y how yo' talk. Yo' doan know what dis means. Talk about de spring house en roas' pork en sech, En buttahmilk ter fill a man wid glee. De white man kin tackle all this nonsense ef he mus' . But de watah-milliun's good 'nuff fo me. BEN KING. 34 OH GOLLY, BUT I'SE HAPPY ! 35 ATCHC5! fiyPAPER!! 37 MATCHES ! FLYPAPER ! ! "Matches! Flypaper!!" is the war-cry with which this future merchant-prince hurls himself into the daily life and strife of our western metropolis. His is not an easy task, and many are the vicissitudes and disappointments that interfere with the happy pursuit of his daily vocation. His cradle stood in far-away Russia, where he passed a bliss- ful babyhood; but ever since the cruel ukase of the czar deprived his progenitors of the means of a livelihood, and compelled them to seek refuge across the briny deep, he had to contribute his share towards the support of the family. He does it dutifully, and his smiling face betrays not the hardships of a pedlar's life nor the anguish of his young heart. He manages to save from his small earnings, and the future will see him a successful business man perhaps a millionaire, groping with financial problems but meanwhile the only ques- tion that interests him is whether the pedlar's license will be increased or not, or how to elude the vigilance of the janitor in the big office building which he is about to enter, with the pur- pose of canvassing his wares, in bold defiance of the warning sign , ' ' No pedlars allowed. ' ' Though he is very cunning in disposing of his matches, he is not always successful in solving this latter question, for the back part of his anatomy very frequently bears strong evidence that his cunning had found a match. 38 MATCHES ! FLYPAPER ! ! 39 THE LETTER-CARRIER Have you ever conceived what an important part the letter- carrier plays in life and in the history of civilization ? Have you ever thought about the clever mechanism of the great machine so perfect in every detail of which he is the alpha and omega ? If you have done so, you will have found the secret of -his popularity, for was there ever a type more welcome in hut or pal- ace than the letter-carrier ? Ever since the time of Cadmus has he been the bearer of tidings joyful and sorrowful, and the maiden of to-day awaits the dain- tily enveloped missive of her admirer with the same anxiety as the virgin maiden of Rome or Athens awaited the waxen tablets on which the stylus of her lover had engraved his tender feelings. But incomparably harder was the lot of the ancient messenger than that of his brother of to-day. The distances he had to traverse were long, the roads if any bad, and great was the danger that frequently lurked in his path. . . . Centuries have rolled down the abyss of time, and the lot of the modern letter-carrier has become comparatively easier. Steamboats and railways have relieved him of the most ardu- ous part of his duty, and the light and flimsy product of rags has taken the place of the cumbersome tablets of the ancients and the voluminous parchment rolls of medieval times; but still his task is not an enviable one, and trudging his monotonous daily rounds carrying in his bag unconsciously and unconcernedly Fortuna's and Pandora's gifts alike, the letter-carrier well deserves our sympathy. THK LKTTKR CARRIKR. 43 UB BEOMN 45 OUR BEERMAR Rattling down the streets comes a covered wagon, driven by " our beerman," a burly fellow whose jolly countenance betrays him as a native of the " Fatherland." Here and there he stops his team, drags a box out of his vehi- cle, and as he rings the basement bell of a residence, or knocks at the front door of a cottage, he looks all " pizness." And it is a good business "our beerman" is doing, for the cosmopolitan population of American cities has in latter years increased at an immense rate, and there are thousands of families, foreign and native, who receive their weekly supply of bottled ' ' Hofbraii, ' ' ' ' Edelweiss " or " Zacherl. ' ' With the advent of beer the reign of whisky is doomed, for it is an established fact that there is less drunkenness and depravity among beer-drinking nations than among those whose favorite liquid is of a more alcoholic quality, and for this reason "our beerman ' ' will prosper, for in the same proportion as his business increases the frequenting of saloons and whisky-drinking must decrease. 46 OUR BEER MAN. 47 IN HIE EMPLOY OF TttE AS COMPANY 49 IN THE EMPLOY OF THE GAS COMPANY. We all know this man, many of us to our sorrow. He may be said to be in bad odor continuously both above and below ground. There is not much superfluous flesh on his bones, but then a diet of escaping gas is not particularly conducive to adi- pose tissue. In spite of his acts of vandalism one cannot with- hold a feeling of pity for the poor devil who works so faithfully and unremittingly when the gang-boss is in his proximity. Wait until the foreman is at the farther end of the block, how- ever, and your sentiments will experience a change. Instead of pity, it is admiration you will feel for this worthy representative of the dinner-pail brigade, who can do more artistic loafing than any other member of the order. Not that he stops work at all ; bless you, he is too cute for that ! Just watch his pick rise and fall, and you will comprehend my meaning. Why, a blind man could detect by its sound just how far away that gang-boss was from the digger. He is a social sort of fellow. He likes to chat with his neighbor in the next trench, nods to the cabbies that drive by, and has even been known to attempt a flirtation with the servant girl engaged in sweeping her mistress's porch. He drinks freely of the water that the small boy with the wooden bucket offers in a tin dipper, for he sweats profusely, and his sys- tem needs replenishing. But it is at noon, when his growler-can is filled from the nearest saloon, that he appears in all his glory. Watch him take a swig ! No bottle with a white label was ever emptied with keener zest than that beer-can. Talk about nectar for the gods ? He would none of it ! Give him beer all he can guzzle and he is supremely happy. SO IN THE EMPLOY OF THE GAS COMPANY. 51 OMPETITOB5 COMPETITORS. This conflict is not only irrepressible; it is hopelessly unend- ing. Oil and water are not more diverse than are the black man and the white. Good humor may bridge the gulf. Hilarity may gloss the scar. But when the laughter and dance are ended, there lies an ocean of difference, of antagonism, of scorn on the one side and spite on the other for the Caucasian and the Ethio- pian are at war. The land which gave the latter birth was pushed in creation far away, below and apart from the land of light. It was divided by seas, and bulwarked by deserts. It was all but cut off, and kept its tiny tendon of connection at the most forbid- ding point where the simoom of the South was wasted and lost in the measureless sands of the East. Yet Fate, ' ' whose step- ping-stones are ages," pierced through all barriers, to leaven with the African the lighter life of Europe and the West. But domi- nance is not shifted. By a Suez isthmus the darker lad still clings to human recognition. By the preponderance of mighty seas the white denies it. " I am a master; you, my slave ! " ' ' Prove it for I am a man ! ' ' The street boys, with all humanity in common, with enjoy- ments akin, with efforts alike, with accomplishments equal, revert to the primal struggle and force alone can determine. For force is the one language in common, down deep below acquired cour- tesy. Has Sambo trespassed on the claim of Jim ? Then Sambo must move on. Has Jim, in arrogance of fairer skin, pushed his frontiers beyond Sambo's reserves? Then he shall maintain them there. The black may struggle. He will struggle, because he is upright, because he can laugh; but in the end he shall fail. Land of Goshen shall be taken from him. Two gamins typify the feud of the races, and the circling sun can find but one solution. 54 COMPETITORS. 55 JATUETTI ! 57 STATUETTI ! The statuetti-man. who sells the pretty little plaster casts, is a character similar to other Greek and Italian street venders, but he is a man of different caliber. He looks down on the poor scis- sor-grinder or banana-man as plebeians and uneducated persons. He is an aristocrat, and knows all about art. He has the famous masterpieces of sculpture at his fingers' ends, and he talks, if he knows enough English, about the Venus of Milo, the Apollo Belvidere, the group of Laocoon, or the dying gladiator, with the same ease as an American fakir talks about the merits of a new shoe-polish, or a patent corkscrew. While the other one has to stand on the sidewalk or in the street, the statuetti-man is not in- frequently allowed to enter the parlor, where he freely gives his opinion on pictures and bric-a-brac, however, not forgetting to praise his own stock of art treasures with a view of a profitable sale. His prices are not fixed. He suits them to the surround- ings, charging in some cases $.50 for a little plaster of paris amorette, while he advances the price of the same piece in another case to $1.50. O, he is shrewd, and it will not take him long to have a little store, where he will dispose of his reproductions of the antique, without being compelled to peddle the same from house to house, carrying the heavy basket on his arm. He is more apt to appre- ciate the advantages of this country than other street-venders of his nationality, and the probability is that he will remain here to enlighten us ignorant Americans about the ancient art of Greece and Rome. 58 STATTETTI ! 59 THE REV. GEORGE WASHINGTON NOWBALL 61 THE REV. GEORGE WASHINGTON SNOWBALL. The Rev. George Washington Snowball is a many-sided man. One side presented for his Sunday congregation, the other to the white brethren. To his Sunday audience he portrays especially the terrors of the lawd. " Bredrin," he says, " and sistern, it is time we had a 'freshin season. You must prepare to shake world" liness or when Gabriel toot his horn he'll call up all goats and no sheep out ob dis congregation. Some ob the members of dis church must 'scribe more liberally for de 'sport of de gospel or dey will be unjined. Git 'lijjen and hole onto it or the debbil with his horns and hoofs and tail will chuck you into de eberlastin bon- fire. I heard one ob de bredren saying last week dat he done jined de church two years and it cost him so fur only four cents. Salvation like dis is too free. He be one ob de niggers such as is 'scribed in de pome writ by General George Washington Dat pore sinner' 11 be cotched out late And find no latch to de golden gate. I tell you, bredren and sistern, de debbil be going round like a roaring lion seeking he may devour somebody, and if you don't backslide and repent and pay up de pew rent he hab his grip on you in de judgmatical day." To the white brethren the colored pastor is all smiles and amia- bility. He approaches the man of business and says : " I is de pastor ob de Fust Methodist Church, and as de congregation be poor, we is obliged to call on some ob de rich white folks to 'scribe for buildin de church. I done called on de President of de Fust National Bank and he telled me that he know you would 'scribe to help me and Jesus build a church for de lambs of de flock and sabe dere souls from demnation. He tell me it no use to go to de common people in de street, but to see jest de most distinguished citizens and I corned to you de fust of all," and by this gracious speech he seeks to transfer the shekels of the ungodly to the upbuilding of the kingdom. 62 THE REV. GEORGE WASHINGTON SNOWBALL. 63 OM FROM FAR-AWAY DAMASCUS. Doesn't she look cheerful, self-reliant and shrewd? She is no whining beggar. She is a merchant, and perfectly capable of making her own living. She comes, in fact, from a nation of traders. Damascus, in far-away Syria, is famous for its bazars and little emporiums. Doubtless this very woman's father kept a little shop in the famous old city, and her earliest recollections are connected with the driving of sharp bargains. A very lively city is that same Damascus, and in busy seasons its streets and bazars are crowded with people of many nationali- ties, and nearly everyone you meet is as picturesque and business- like as our friend in the illustration. Great is the variety of articles that change hands: silks, gold and silver ornaments and trinkets, Persian and Turkish carpets, amber gewgaws, artistic bits of old china, cashmere shawls, coffee, tobacco, pipes and what not. Our friend has followed the dictates of early training in filling her basket. She has collar-buttons, fancy purses, breast- pins, pins and needles, thread, handkerchiefs and many other articles. The thought naturally occurs to one that business must be pretty brisk with the woman, for she doesn't look homesick. But if our smiling merchant is not discontented, we will awake no memories to make her so. She has come to this country to make her living, and she appears to know what she is about. 66 FROM FAR-AWAY DAMASCUS. 67 PBUY DA r \PER,5l6NOR? BUYA DA PAPAH, SIGNOR? Who has not been accosted, especially evenings and in the down-town districts, by one of these forsaken-looking miniature specimens of toiling humanity ? " Buya da papah, signor?" is their plaintive cry, and it seems to tell a sad story of privation, hunger and neglected childhood driven out in the night by unfeeling and barbaric parents, or, worse perhaps, by a cruel padrone, to earn a few paltry cents for their protectors. As one sees them, of a winter evening, shiver on the street- corners, exposed to the inclemency of the weather, their stunted little bodies poorly protected by an old, ragged shawl, against the rain and sleet, crying out with their thin, childish voices, or mutely upholding with their stiff little hands an evening paper, one might feel, indeed, that this is a cruel world, into which every minute a new sufferer is born. What a contrast between the male and female street Arab ! How self-confident, how mischievous the one; how dejected, how for lorn -looking the other ! One might feel compassion and concern towards both of them but while the one, in a sense, hardly deserves it, being self-reliant and by nature hardened against the adversities of life, the other calls forth the deepest pity, the utmost resentment against social conditions that allow a tender being, a future mother of citizens, to be pressed into service to help earn a livelihood for depraved and conscienceless progenitors. Will this problem ever be solved ? 70 RUVA DA I'ATAH, SIGXOR? 73 A DISCIPLE OF AESCULAP. You all know this character, have known him for years, and, judging from his perennial vivacity and virile force, he is likely to survive many of his younger competitors. His beard is silvery, but his form is erect, and there are not wanting men who allege that he wears spectacles, not to see through, but so that they cannot be seen through by an outsider. Our friend's stock in trade is not extensive. It consists of a black bag, an aged um- brella, a suit of shiny black, and a venerable appearance. In the black bag he carries mysterious compounds, guaranteed to cure every ill to which human flesh is subject. He is a bird of passage, and principally affects the smaller country towns, where he es- tablishes himself at a second-rate hotel. Then a small boy dis- tributes circulars, setting forth that Professor Blank of the Royal College of Physicians of Dunnowhere will be in town for one week and holds himself in readiness to cure every trouble from toothache to cancer. His clientage is derived mostly from that class of women whose chief trouble is ill- temper generated by dyspepsia. With a wholesome fear of the State Board of Health before his eyes, our friend seldom stays more than a few days in one place; and as to his so-called panaceas, it would be found on analysis that if they could do no good, they certainly could do no harm. 74 A DISCIPLK OF AHSCUIvAPIUS. 75 ffOUKOLDim 77 THE OLD SOLDIER. Gettysburg, Shiloh, Appomattox ! Glorious memories that come back to us at the sight of an old soldier. Memories that will live forever in tradition and history. Happy he who has been an active helper in the glorious achievements for humanity and civilization that resulted from an otherwise deplorable war of brothers. All the misery, all the suffering must be forgotten in contemplation of the glorious result. Unlike European nations, the United States government is generous to its old soldiers. It does not show its gratitude to the veterans by generously granting them the privilege to solicit alms, but it gives them substantial pensions. The old soldier here is not an object of pity. He is a respected and beloved hero, looked upon by all with equal admiration. If he be without friends he may join the great family in one of the splendidly equipped soldiers' homes, where he may await in peace the last bugle call. If he have progeny he is sure to spend the eve of his life among beloved ones, who never tire to hear the stirring sto- ries of the historic struggle repeated, of which he is a living witness. In both cases he may quietly await the end in the consciousness of having done his duty towards his country. But let us hope that the old soldier of the civil war will long be a familiar figure in our streets, and that by the time he must disappear from the stage of the world all the differences will have been long forgotten that once existed between the blue and the gray. 78 THE OLD SOLDIER. 79 TRENCH HEWING 81 FRENCH CHEWING CANDY. In no country throughout the world is so much candy con- sumed as in the United States. Naturally the candy industry is an important one, and many tons of the tempting wares are sent daily from the centers of production to all parts of the Union. Many are the forms in which the dainty goods are offered to the consumer, and each has its admirers. Who would say that the dirty street Arab does not enjoy his stick of hoarhound or his ani- line-dyed taffy as much as the daughter of the merchant-prince enjoys her box of candied violets or marone glace ? It is this fondness for sweetmeats that makes the existence of the itinerant vender of chewing candy possible. The chewing candy man is in his way as much of a merchant as the great dry- goods man. He has to be a student of human nature, a psychol- ogist and physiognomist. He is invariably found in the business district, where he occupies a lively corner. There he scans the faces of the passers-by; and when he sees a prospective customer he utters his " Chewing candy ! Fine fresh chewing candy !" He is rarely mistaken, and a nickel is the general tribute paid to his shrewdness. There must be a fair profit in the business, for the candy man, as a rule, looks happy ; or is his sweet disposition perhaps the result of his close contact with the goods which he bears on the tray so near his heart ? The serenity of the candy man is not easily disturbed, but sometimes a cloud darkens his face. That happens when business on the corner is brisk, and the burly policeman at the crossing tells him to " move on." Then he seeks new fields of conquest, and soon his alluring voice may be heard on the next corner cry- ing out, " French chewing candy ! Fine, fresh chewing candy!" S2 CHEWING CANDY. 83 PAKIR A FAKIR. Three keen 'thin ones of the wolf tribe,' ready for the day's work. Spectacles over that sharpest pair of eyes; a hat carefully bat- tered. Blacking to sell. The capper on the left; the back-capper on the right. Boys to make the beginnings of a crowd. If I be greedy, seeking for whom I may devour, let me pass quickly by this innocent three, this artful trio. They are not there to get rich buying blacking from one another. But if I love my neighbor as myself I may approach. I may purchase a box of this wonderful product. I may speak without danger. They will show me their shell-game; they may set to work like beavers with their cap and their back- cap, exciting my supposed desire to rob them. But I have no such desire. How sharp, how keen, how thin ! Ages of piracy behind them ! Hereditary genius of robbery ! The lean one at the left, how clumsily he gives, but you should see how deftly he would take ! Into this world is born every minute a greedy fellow who believes he could outwit these sinuous, clean-cut neat fakirs at their own games. Here comes one even now ! Make way, boys; let the gentleman see this blacking ! Ah, yes, five cents out of five dollars ! Are they not generous to give him a genuine nickel with his four dollars and ninety cents of queer money ! Do I dislike these birds of prev ? Ah, you ask a hard question ! See yon eagle hovering between the crest of the mountain and the crag of cloud ! There is a goosy-gander in the valley, plan- ning the fall of Aquila, and Aquila, the eagle, has his unflinching eye fixed on something white and long-throated down below ! A FAKIR. 87 FRESH, HOT HICKEN TAMALES FRESH, HOT CHICKEN-TAMALES ! ! To dive into the mysteries of a Chicken-tamale ! Have you ever tried it ? No ? Well, you must. It is the Ambrosia of our Mexican friend. Accompanied by pulque, which is his Nectar, it forms a meal which, in his imag- ination, the angels in heaven could enjoy. Perhaps they could. But I am sure that to the average Amer- ican at first trial a tamale seems more like a foretaste of that tropic climate, a graphic description of which has been given us by immortal Dante, than food for Cherubim and Seraphim. And yet it is delicious, this mixture of chicken, olives, toma- toes, cornmeal and red pepper, if you once get used to it. Possi- bly you have to overcome a slight repugnance at the first trial, but this will be amply repaid by the wholesome effect of the tamale on your digestive organs and by-and-by you will be in- itiated into the toothsome mysteries of this steaming bundle of cornhusks. You will come to meditate over the insignificance of the peacock-brains and nightingale- tongues of the sybarites of ancient Rome as compared to the gastronomic value of the Chicken-tamale, and you will become its proselyte. The tamale-man or, more correct, the tamalero, is a new and interesting type on our thoroughfares; let us welcome his advent. Long live the tamalero ! 90 FRESH, HOT CHICKEN TAMELESS 9' OI-IN JOHN. This is a good picture of "John," who is at once a unique and interesting character. I have often thought that John, as we know him, is a fair type of man in his finished state. He stands as a living representation of a civilization so old that its origin is lost in the mazes of antiquity. We can imagine him starting as a primordial germ or a protoplasm, and, after ages of existence, developing into the highest state of civilization, and then, having satiated himself along the- line of human achievement, settled back into that simple yet truly philosophical being that we now find him. We may sneer at John's clothes and his manner of wearing them; we may ridicule his art, with its utter lack of per- spective; we may deride customs that to him are centuries old ; we may deplore his lack of progress; but to all this John only smiles grimly, and with his characteristic philosophy, briefly, but point- edly exclaims: ' ' Melican man dam fool. ' ' 94 JOHN. 95 MTHE I LKMAN 97 THE MILKMAN. It is early in the morning. The dawn of the coming day is battling with the shadows of the night. The streets of the city are empty and the pulse of urban life is low. This is the time for the milkman. His wagon comes rattling down the street or alley. Perhaps it wakes you from a pleasant slumber and you turn with a vigorous expression towards the wall trying to pick up the rup- tured thread of your dream. Don't curse the milkman. He tries to make his living. And he has no easy road to travel either. Summer and winter he rises at the wee small hours of the morning. Rain or snow, heat or cold cannot keep him from getting his supply of milk from the earliest morning trains. From there he makes the route of his customers. His horse is a valuable helpmate to him. It saves time. It knows the streets and alleys as well as its master, and it stops automatically at the customers' houses. It does not need any urging, and starts to- ward the house of the next customer as soon as it sees its master run down the steps with the rattling cans. Mean people have slandered the milkman basely by asserting that he gets his lacteous ware from the hydrant. That is not so. If the milk has a bluish tint and looks a little thin it is generally the wily farmer's fault. And who could really blame him if he watered his stock a little ? There are others who do the same. Still they are respected. Why should not we respect the milk- man? 98 (JDdfB RUSHING THE GROWLER Round- eyed and smiling expectancy never had a better illus- tration than that which is furnished by the accompanying picture of the toiler bearing a" loaded ' ' growler. ' ' One can almost see his internal arrangements yearning in anticipation. As plainly as facial expression may be interpreted, he is remarking to him- self: "This 'ere richness is outside of me now, but you just wait! Yum, yum!" and his teeth close in a tighter grip on the briar- wood pipe, while his disengaged fist is doubled in sym- pathy with the hand that clutches the bail of the precious can. The " growler " is a cosmopolitan vessel, and it is rushed in every language that finds a roosting- place in America. It is the poor man's sideboard. Broad-clothed and silk-hatted sybarites may find pleasure in taking theirs over the polished mahogany, but the horny-fisted citizen will have none of that; he takes his 1 ' straight ' ' out of the growler. Ever}- saloon is a center to which, through the day and evening, flow streams of empty pitchers and cans, and from which radiate the same, filled to the battered rim with cool amber liquid, sur- mounted by a white crown of yeasty foam, tempting one to bury his nose in the sea of bubbles and let the mellow j uice glide down his gullet in long gurgling draught, while the overflow runs down his beard, even as it ran down the beard of old Gambrinus. In another view, the " growler " is a tiger with a maw ever open for the reception of nickels and dimes, and were he not fed so faithfully, it is barely possible the children of the poor might receive a trifle more of education, their red feet might not show quite so plainly through their ragged foot-gear, the inroads of diphtheria and fevers might be better guarded against, and there might not be so large a crop of earthen hillocks in the Paupers' Corner of the cemetery. But one Malthus had a serious thought of weeding out the race, and perhaps we are reaching his conclu- sions by other methods. 102 RUSHING THE GROWLER. 105 RAPID MESSENGER SERVICE. A white-whiskered libel in the picture-papers represents the blue-suited and red-trimmed messenger boy as a human snail. Illustrated by cuts, he is shown in youth receiving an important message. An old man, with bleary eyes and the gray of extreme age on his face, is seen returning fifty or sixty years afterward with the answer, which is delivered to the grandson of the sender. This series of pictures embodies a malicious falsehood, for the messenger almost always gets back before he reaches middle age. In the popular mind, some business man in an awful hurry twangs the mechanical jamboozle in a corner of his office, and two and a-half minutes later a winged Mercury in blue and red rushes into the room. A note is handed him, and he dashes out with a whoop and a clatter that startle the whole neighborhood. Once outside, the boy lets down gradually into a trot, which subsides into a walk that presently fetches him up in front of a theatrical bill-board, where he stagnates in open-mouthed admiration of the pink and yellow attractions of a ballet troupe. Then he drifts off into space and wanders about the universe until he gets ready to come back. These are popular errors, which have very slight foundation in fact, for the little fellow is a very useful help in the scheme of nineteenth century civilization. At any hour of the twenty-four, in fair weather and foul, the messenger-boy may be seen trudging with sturdy legs along the street; or hanging to the tail-end of a horse-car, always with a grave and sober sense of responsibility befitting his function in the community, He never slips into the seductive opening of an alley to pitch pennies or shoot ' ' craps. ' ' As a rule he is active and reliable, and on the whole has a higher appreciation of duty than had the Judge who adjourned court to look at a dog fight. 106 RAPID MESSENGER SERVICE. 107 MQSWEEPQ 109 STREET SWEEPER. Cleanliness is the virtue responsible for the production of that unique character called the street sweeper. He is but another cog in the great wheel of civilization, and he moves in his little sphere with as much certainty as do those charged with the more important affairs of life. When the bankers, the merchants or the .lawyers have laid down the cares of the day, the street-sweeper, with his luncheon buckled to his waist, and his broom over his shoulder, sallies forth to his work. In the glare of the electric light he brushes up the windrows of dirt which the machines have laid, and his comrades with their carts carry the refuse away to the dump. A melancholy life he leads until the approach of election time. Then he is a man of importance, whose franchise is eagerly sought by the politicians. All of his friends are given work at this time, and their labor is made correspondingly lighter. Then he has time to pause frequently in his work and lift to his lips the persuasive fluid which is furnished in abundance by the political managers who claim his allegiance. no STREET SWEEPER. BEDPIE5! BEPPIESN LACKBEBQIES!! BERRIES! BERRIES! BLACKBERRIES! Here is a type well known to all Who in the busy city dwell, A man of monumental gall And gorged with strange conceits as well ; Each day he hails you from the street If you by chance but glance his way, With " Berries ! berries ! choice and sweet ! Here is your fine ripe fruit to-day !" And tho' you coldly turn away, As loudly at your door he calls, He will not let you say him nay, But lingers and more loudly bawls. You fix him then with flashing eye, Your very glance with rage replete, But still goes up his galling cry, " Fresh fruit to-day, all sound and sweet ! " And still he halts and warbles on, With tempting wares held up to view, At times round- glancing, but anon His gaze turned back again on you ; And tho' your looks forbid the move, He nearer draws with hopeful mien, The which does most conclusive prove He thinks you, like his berries, green. Then comes the rub, and, half inclined, Your heart his urgent plea beguiles, He draws you on, and soon you find Yourself encompassed by his wiles ; Your hard-earned cash he gathers in And to fresh conquests does depart, The while you view, with deep chagrin, The consummation of his art. BERRIES! BERRIES!! BLACKBERRIES!!! "5 117 HALLELUJAH LASSES. Perhaps the method does not appeal to everyone, but surely the aim of these Salvation Army girls is a noble one. What the nurse in the sick room is for the body, any member of the great religious society called ' ' Salvation Army ' ' is for the soul. What if the use of the tambourine and the drum is ridiculed by those who do not take the trouble to look beyond the surface ! The end justifies the means; and there is no denying that the Salva- tion Army has achieved commendable results. Go into the dingy quarters of the poor, visit the grimy streets of the tenement dis- tricts, and you will find the self-sacrificing soldier of the Lord in the thick of the battle, not only against Satan, the arch-enemy of the soul, but against those mighty foes of humanity: vice, drunk- enness, filth, and other forms of moral degeneracy. Doughty warriors they are, even if frail of body, and the souls they have snatched from moral perdition, the human beings they have saved from utter despair, number in the thousands. It is, therefore, a matter of congratulation for the world in general to see the growing influence of this Church militant in the quarters where moral improvement is most desirable. Whether they call themselves " Salvation Army " or "American Volunteers " is a matter of small importance; and if their method sometimes elicits a smile even from a sympathizer, let it not be a reason to withhold our approval of the work to which our "Hallelujah Lasses" have bravely devoted their whole energy and life. 118 HALLELUJAH LASSES. 1*9 DLJ O H 121 TOUGH. He dreamed he was a hero. He was not born in the purple. He longed for leadership, as did Caesar or Napoleon, but his horizon was narrow. He was not taught, but he did his best. He could not conquer provinces, but he could whip the other thug. He is not a " thug " altogether. His nose is good, his ear is good, his features are clean-cut, and he might fight for a friend. Undoubtedly he is too aggressive. Undoubtedly he has brutal class prejudices. But had he been educated, had he been taught finer things wouldn't he have made a good figure in a dress suit, and might he not have led the battle in the Blank district con- gressional struggle ? Is not the ' ' tough ' ' but the Man we all like lacking only modern wisdom ? 122 125 ACCORDION PLAYER. Here we have one of those types of street life which the thoughtless throng passes by unheedingly, and yet one which fur- nishes food for thought, serious thought. All the way from sunny, vine-clad Italy she came, from a country where the very air, like an ^Solian harp, vibrates with music; whose every foot of soil reeks with history ; whose people have a greater past than any other living nation. But alas! it is also a country which for cen- turies has been down-trodden, overrun by lusty barbarians, and overridden by the steed of the conqueror. A poverty-stricken country, whose rich natural resources lie fallow, Italy, the sleep- ing beauty, just awakened from her dream of a thousand years, and still rubbing her eyes wondringly at the enormous strides for- ward which all her neighbors have made. And from that home, beautiful but starving, this swarthy stranger woman has come to these hospitable shores. A strolling musician, vagabondism is in her blood. The hard life she has ever led since she was weaned has left its indelible stamp on her. Straggling, unkempt hair, low forehead, prominent cheek bones, and eyes that glimmer like half-extinct charcoal, she would do as a model for the witch of Endor. But though repul- sive in looks, and though she uses her accordion as an instrument of torture on an indulgent public, producing nothing but shrill, discordant sounds, the woman crops out in one spot at least. What Goethe calls the ' ! eternal womanly ' ' sh ows itself in the child the bright-eyed, roguish little imp, the ' ' bambino caris- simo ' ' of this hag. L,ike an Indian squaw she carries her pappoose, performing her labor all day long with this burden on her back, twanging her accordion, begging and wheedling, the mother love is there, nevertheless. That is the one green spot in her life, the oasis in the desert of her heart. And let us hope that the little devil-may -care fellow on her sturdy back one day may grow up to be an independent, stalwart American boy. 126 ACCORDION PLAYKR. 127 NICE EWHER DUSTERS I2 9 FEATHER DUSTERS. Stores and office-buildings are the favorite hunting grounds of the feather-duster man, or to be more correct, the feather- duster boy; for as a rule the profession recruits itself from the ranks of boys and very young men. He is a polite fellow, but at the same time he is persistent. Yet his persistency is not of the offensive kind. His invitation to buy nice turkey feather-dusters is uttered in such modest and submissive tones that should he even repeat it several times at your decided refusal, it is impossible for you to get angry at the fellow. He looks at you so appealingly as he offers his wares that you cannot help getting interested in him. Perhaps you may think that a feather-duster is a superflu- ous article. You never had one, and do not care to have one. But you can not escape him. His eagle eye is quick to detect the layer of dust on your cabinet file or your office desk, and he will call your attention to that fact by drawing fantastic figures in the dust with his forefinger, until you come to recognize the absolute necessity of investing half a dollar in a feather-duster. The feather-duster boy is a type very similar to the little match pedlar. He is generally a Hebrew, and has all the characteristics of that thrifty race. He is saving and always on the lookout for a favorable chance to invest his small savings where they will bring him the best returns. His vocation is only a temporary one. He wants to be a merchant, and does not expect to sell feather- dusters all his life. The evolution is, perhaps, slow, but it is sure, for he has the necessary get-up to insure success. 130 FEATHER DUSTKRS! 133 THE POPCORN MAN. " Popcorn, salt and sugared popcorn. One bag for a nickel, two for a dime !" The above refrain sung in a shrill, yet not wholly unmusical key, always makes the children's eyes sparkle with delight and expectation ; while the parent who will take his little ones by the popcorn-stand without buying for them a bag of the sweet, old- fashioned and toothsome edible can hardly be said to understand children as well as he should. He must have forgotten his own childhood days. The popcorn man is certainly a good fellow. It is almost al- ways safe to say that a man whom the children like, even if they do have to pay for the pleasure he gives them, must have some good traits about him. He shows, too, by his calling that he is possessed to some extent at least of that commercial shrewdness which forms so prominent a feature in the make-up of our great merchants. Success, then, to the popcorn merchant whenever by his own industry and honesty he deserves it. Let us all patronize him, and ourselves live over again our youthful experiences by helping the ' ' little men and women ' ' to enjoy the same pleasures that we used to dote so fondly upon in the days now long gone by. 134 THE POPCORN MAX. '35 fflOOLGIBLS SCHOOLGIRLS. What brighter, sunnier than a bevy of American school girls ? How happy they are ! L,ife to them seems as yet a perennial picnic. Can't you read their love of fun in their smiling eyes? The tricks they are sure to play at school to-day; the saucy answer to rude boys that one can read on their half-parted lips ! And yet, at the same time, the affectionate nature they show, and the entire absence of all affectation ! They're a healthy type of our shifting, many-tongued street life. No schoolgirls in the universe are jollier, cleverer, more ambitious or nicer than are our American girls. Romping with the boys, coasting and skating with the best of them, trundling their hoops with the speed and agility of greyhounds, and playing lawn tennis till their young backs ache, they are yet thoroughly girlish though not what one of them termed ' ' girly girls. ' ' Try them at flirting yes, even the girls in the short frocks and you'll soon find there's a heap of pure femininity concealed about their slender anatomy. But try them also with their books, to be fair about it. You'll find, in nine cases out of ten, they know more than boys of the same age. They can jump and play, run and catch ball, but they can also sit at home and " do " a heap more difficult mathematics than Jack and Will, their stur- dier playmates. Take it altogether, our American schoolgirls are made of pretty good stuff, the stuff which makes good wives and good mothers, good breadwinners and true mates. Nowhere else in this broad land of ours will the future American of the feminine gender show forth more gloriously than right here. 138 SCHOOLGIRLS. 139 ANA PEDDlfR 141 BANANA PEDDLER. A degenerated descendant of the ancient people of Rome or Sparta, the swarthy banana pedlar pushes his cart contentedly through the thoroughfares of the city. No thoughts of the an- cient glory of his nation disturbs his mind when he cries out his ' Ba-na-nos ! Ba-na-nos ! !" He is not sentimental. He is bent on making his profit, and the commercial instinct is far more de- veloped in him than that warlike spirit which predominated in his ancestors. The banana cart is the war-chariot behind which he fights his battle of life. The few paltry dimes which form the profits of a day are to him perhaps as much as the spoils of a vic- torious battle were for one of his progenitors. Indeed, Rome and Sparta have fallen. The ancient soil does not even grant a sufficient living to the descendants of Lycurgus and Scipio. The new world is the Mecca towards which their steps are now directed, and in America they find what the mother country denies them a chance in the battle of life a chance for a living. The banana pedlar is not a bad citizen. He is peaceful and saving. Though his surroundings in the quarters which he in- habits are not of the most elevating kind, yet he is able to rise above them. Not all banana pedlars ere destined to become rich, but their thrift and industry are essential factors in the amassing of a small competence, sufficient for their modest requirements, when the cart gets too heavy too push' and the legs too slow to follow. 142 THE OALMAN 145 THE COAL MAN. A type strictly belonging to the poorest tenement districts of a large city. Many a lady, living midst wealth and luxury, looking at the picture, might doubt the existence of pedjsle who sell coal by the bushel. Just think of it ! Coal by the bushel ! Are there people poor enough to be compelled to buy coal in such small quantities ? Indeed there are; and many thou- sands besides who cannot afford to buy it at all. You can see them follow the wagons to pick up falling pieces of coal; you can see them search every inch of ground in the railroad yards for the black diamonds, which are diamonds to them indeed. Warmth is life, and poor people cling to life with the same tenacity as millionaires. So they must have coal in winter to keep out the icy drafts from their damp and dingy rooms. To these people the coal man, who sells his goods by the bushel and who sometimes even grants a little credit, is a boon. He is one of the most welcome figures in that terrible maelstrom of poverty, the poor tenement district. He is honest; perhaps as much by choice as by necessity, for it is not easy to cheat a customer who buys coal by the bushel. The coal man himself only ekes out a precarious living, but he must feel contented when he compares his existence with the abject misery which he witnesses every day of his life. If he were a novelist what dreadful pictures of human suffering he could unroll. He could, as an eye witness, tell these who live in abundance that there are human beings who starve for the want of a crust of bread, and whose limbs get numbed for the want of fuel. But the coal man is not a novelist. Maybe he thinks a great deal about what he sees. But he does not say much. Perhaps it is better so. 146 THE COALMAN. U7 CJS50R5! 149 SCISSORS. One of the types that haunt the residence parts of the city in preference to the business district is the scissors-grinder. He is generally an Italian, though other nationalities also contribute to this "sharp" profession. The scissors-grinder is a man who is always welcome to the cook, who, if she happens to be a daughter of Erin, will for the moment forget her innate prejudice against the " Eyetalian " and intrust her dull knives to his care. Whether he carries his apparatus on his back or pushes it before him on wheels, his mind reverting to his sunny home or to his native maccaroni pots, his brown hand does not tire of swinging the bell with which he reminds our housewives of a dull carving-knife or a rusty pair of scissors. The boys also welcome him and are interested spectators during the process of putting an edge on the pocket-knives which Santa Claus had brought them last Christ- mas. What a pleasure it is for the children to stand around that spark-emitting grindstone ! They don't disturb the taciturn Italian, who grinds away with the stoical equanimity of a Marc Aurelius until he tests the edge with his horny thumb and de- mands his ten or " fifteen centi." The scissors-grinder likes America, but not always enough to be willing to die here. His ambition is to save a few hundred dollars if possible more with which to return to his sunny country. There, on the beautiful plains of the Lombardy or in the picturesque mountains of Calabria he will enjoy the eve of his life with plenty of polcuta and maccaroni. Mayhaps he will look compassionately at the poor Lazzaroni in Naples, compared to whom, he imagines himself a Croesus. 150 ILL pOSTED 153 THE BILL POSTER. He is certainly a nuisance, and this is probably the reason why the bill poster generally avoids the bright light of day and does his work either at night or during the earliest morning hours. The bill poster is essentially a product of American adver- tising methods. The craft is almost unknown on the European continent. But then the poor European is way back in art-edu- cation. He does not appreciate the beauties of a fifty-yard-circus advertisement on the walls of a building or on the fence around an empty lot. He has no understanding of how one can improve the natural beauty of a romantic dell by judiciously placing a tooth powder or soap-ad on the most prominent rocks and bowl- ders. The bill poster is a native of the large cities, but he may be found during the summer seasons at the smaller towns and vil- lages where he industriously plasters walls and fences, the most effective advance agent of the many-ringed circus and the barn- storming dramatic show. It cannot be said that he has no ad- mirers at all. Should he be seen in daytime with brush and pail in hand, poster sheets slung over the shoulder, he is followed by a crowd of inquisitive children who eagerly watch him roll up sheet after sheet, until their delight knows no bounds when the com- pleted work shows all the animals of Noah's ark, or the most stirring scenes in the blood-curdling border tragedy: " The mys- tery of Dead Man's Gulch ! " But the bill poster is nevertheless an unmitigated nuisance, and his existence ought to be forgiven him only for the occasional delight he furnishes the children. 154 BIIJ y POSTER. 155 UT A STBOLL 15? OUT FOR A STROLL. She has just finished her frugal luncheon in the small, dingy office -room where she is employed as stenographer and typewriter, and the warm sun shines so invitingly through the open windows that she decides to utilize her noon hour by taking a little walk. She is pretty, and as she trips gracefully through the bustling crowd, daintily lifting her dress with a neatly gloved hand, many admiring glances follow her. Here and there she recognizes an acquaintance, but she does not stop. Now she reaches a crowded corner and passes the gauntlet of young dudes and old Lotharios, who congregate there to review female pedestrians; but she does not seem to be annoyed, and rather enjoys the attention which her appearance has attracted. If we are not mistaken, she even smiles as she turns a side glance at a handsome young fellow. She knows it is wrong to flirt for it was only last Sunday that her pastor had warned his young flock, in a very elaborate sermon, against the sin of flirting but then it is such pleasant pastime, and she will not do so again till to-morrow, for it is one o'clock, and duty calls her to the desk. 158 OUT FOR A STROLL. 159 HTHEDE! T 161 AH THERE ! We see him every day, we see him everywhere, we meet him on the streets, in the parks, in hotels, theaters, and we see him even in church. We know him, we know him well; and still how is it that natural science has not taken any notice of him, though his ex- istence has been proved for the last two or three centuries ? No Buff on, no Brehm has ever attempted to describe his haunts, his habits or his mode of living; nobody has ever thought of classifying him. Yet he is an interesting subject, and his study would well re- pay the trouble of profound and scientific research. A native of larger cities, his beauty, his cleanly habits and docile manners have fitted him eminently for a ladies' pet, and nature has provided him with the necessary instinct to recognize his destiny, for wherever we meet him, he is trying to attract the attention of the fair sex. "Is he successful in that? If not, it isn't his fault, for his per- severance in lounging on street corners, in front of theaters, etc. , is simply marvelous, and well deserves the coveted reward. And then, isn't he irresistible? His symmetrical form clad according to the latest fashion plate, his statuesque poses and his winning smile are the danger- ous weapons that conquer the hearts of the fair damsels who are careless enough to cast a glance at this modern Antinous. As he stands twirling his handsome mustache in a wonder- fully artistic pose of attention, his intelligent eyes beaming kindly admiration, every inch a dude, he is well excusable if he believes in the truthfulness of his device: ' ' Veni, vidi, vici. ' ' 162 AH THERE ! 163 fitBUND DEflQAR 165 THE BLIND BEGGAR. Unlike King Oedipus of mythical fame, this old man has not voluntarily robbed himself of the blessings of sight to reconcile the anger of the gods nay, a plain everyday accident has de- prived him of that inestimable gift of nature, and enveloped in darkness he wanders through life, a burden to himself, a burden to others. He has no memories of past greatness. He does not find con- solation in the thought that such self-inflicted punishment will atone for his crime and appease the wrath of the deities. He has nothing to atone for. No Antigone guides his steps with loving hand only a hired boy is leading him by his empty coat-sleeve from house to house. He is simply a blind beggar. The Eumenides will not have to conceal his burial place. A pauper's grave in an obscure cor- ner of a cemetery will effectually hide his remains and nobody will look for them, for he was only a blind beggar. Blind ! O Fates, of all the evils you have in store for human- ity, this is the most unkind ! 166 THE BUND BEGGAR. 167 P^TIDDH 169 HARP AND FIDDLE. Toss them a nickel. If they are not earning it, they are hon- estly trying to, which amounts to pretty much the same thing. Perhaps you are not striving so conscientiously to earn your salary as these two fellows are, to give a full equivalent for the nickel they expect to get. The violinist, sure enough, is not a Sarasate, and the harpist does not play heaven's favorite instrument with a maestro 's hand, nor does he sing like Tamagrio. But why be too particular? They are natural born musicians, and something is due to genius. Moreover, when we open the pocket-book wide enough to let out a nickel for a street musician, the heart opens a little at the same time, and a recompense of God's golden sunshine flows into the bosom. A queer life these fellows lead. On warm summer mornings they play and sing out in the back yard. If you live in the city, you may have heard them when you were half awake, and very beautiful their music sounded at such a time. In the summer afternoons they seek the back streets, and lure a bevy of children around them in the shade. In the winter they play in saloons or wherever experience has taught them that they will not be un- welcome. It goes without saying that the children are their chief admirers. Much pleasure they give the little ones, and many a penny they pick up at their open-air rehearsals. Penni- less children listen free. The thoughtful man who happens to run across the.se peripatetic minstrels W 7 ill relax his brow for a moment and dream of the time when such music gave him more pleasure than he can get to-day from the most artistic perform- ances. Perhaps if he is rich and careworn he may even go so far as to exclaim: Swarth minstrels of the city street Play on, your noisy tunes repeat; Once more to deem such music sweet I'd toss my fortune at your feet ! 170 HARP AND FIDDLE. 171 AGPICKERS 173 RAG PICKERS, Born in streets that "echoed to the tread of either Brutus," under the wall-shadows that have fallen on a Caesar's triumphal march, beneath a sun that could not find a foe for Romans born so, but in a later day when alien blood has sunk a race of war- riors this last residuum in Time's great goblet that once brimmed over with the best of earth , these ancient crones have wandered from the Old world to glean a living from the refuse of the New. The dames of ancient Rome the garbage barrels of an American city ! There is the satire of the centuries. The stylus that painfully en- grossed the learning of that day has swept across the page of Time with swiftly growing speed, till lightning presses end the cycle of improvement. And these old crones, dark fishing in the dawn, dig up the crumpled leaves: " Decline and Fall!" Shall any ma- tron, proud of present empire, live in lines to be digged out of dust-bins in that brighter age when our descendants, sunk to slaves, shall crouch and shiver in the noisome ways ? Is there a city somewhere hid in Earth and Time through whose dim alleys Columbia's final son shall grope inferior for food ? Why not ? Did the Tigris promise less ? Do our streams promise more ? Where stood the fate that crushed the kings of earth ? What fate for us lies crouching in the twilight centuries away ? 174 RAG-PICKKRS. 175 MANGP1NDED 177 THE ORGAN GRINDER. The blue-bird and the organ grinder are the harbingers of spring. Although it has become the fashion to speak slightingly of the latter, yet his quaint manner and unpretentious instrument are the source of much quiet enjoyment. Who has not at some time been carried away on a creamy sea of recollection by a half- forgotten melody winding itself out of the twisted throat of a hand-organ ? Only a decade ago light operas were the fashion and the streets were merry with their melodies. The boot black whistled their catchy airs to the early morning, and the weary pedestrian quickened his steps at the sound of their inspiring measures. The gray bearded man of affairs hummed them softly between the coming and going of customers in his office; the pink and dimpled baby in the crib sank into restful slumber, soothed by their rhythmical cadences. But more pretentious, if less mu- sical, compositions have laid hold of the public's fancy, and these touching bits of harmony, once so familiar to our every-day life, are heard no more: " In the rush and roar of sound, Every melody is drowned." Even the street bands have left off playing Hayes and Root to toot Volkmann and Wagner. The organ-grinder alone clings to the tripping valse of Strauss he alone soothes our restless spirits with Annie Laurie awakens us to new endeavor with the stir- ring Marseillaise. He comes to us with the songs we used to love in the long ago; the songs that will be sweet to us always, because one who was dear to us loved and sang them when the day was growing misty and dim in the twilight, Blessings on the organ grinder ! He is the children's friend, and his much- abused instrument what a storehouse of precious memories it is, after all ! 178 ORGAN-GRINDER. 79 MUM FAMILY 181 A MUSICAL FAMILY. Although the commanding influence of music has long been recognized, yet the path of musicians is to-day by no means free from thorns. The musical family in our picture is at times subjected to severe criticism. It is not their fault, they try to please all. Some keys of their instruments are made to play, for the delecta- tion of lovers of music, while others emit no sound, a concession to the opposing faction ; and this division is made with a commend- able impartiality. Criticism does not deter them ; their ancestors, playing the identical instruments, encountered the same opposition. It is true these objections are not always unfounded. It is perhaps but reasonable to limit a performance to one composition at a time, and that one to be played by all the artists. Again, one of the players should be empowered to make a selection for all. This plan, faithfully executed, will remove all uncertainty as to the production rendered. The claim that a musical instrument should be recognizable by its sound, independently of its shape, is not without some force. And discords should not, as a class, be favored. But the errors indicated, when they occur, are not in- tentional, and all reasonable efforts are made to rectify them. The places of notes, almost as soon as their omission is discov- ered, are supplied by other notes, designed to subserve the com- poser's purpose, In this family, we see a fair distribution of labor. The babe provides the vocal, the older children supply the instrumental music, while the mother wields the baton, particularly useful at rehearsals. The sirens who sought, with music, to lure Ulysses to his doom , did not utilize the instruments empk^ed by this family, and their efforts were a conspicuous failure. 1S2 A MUSICAL FAMILY. MINE! 185 SHINE! The little fellow who bears the traces of his vocation on his dirty cheek is down on his knees to lend a new lustre to a pair of shoes that have evidently outgrown their period of usefulness. With the characteristic ' ' get there ' ' of the American street Arab he is certain to succeed in his undertaking. The American boot- black excells in his art, but the type is doomed to disappear from the streets of the great cities. While he may, as yet, occasionally be found in groups, hanging around the street corners, uttering his shrill cry, "Shine!" he is like the proverbial policeman, generally not to be found when wanted. May be he is getting discouraged. From a dime which used to be the compensation for a shine not many years ago, the price has dropped to a nickel. The competition by ' ' wholesalers ' ' who run basements or other suitable apartments as ' ' fine art boot-blacking parlors ' ' together with their drop of prices, has a tendency to drive the familiar and picturesque boy, with brush and footrest slung over his shoulder, from the streets. He would be sorely missed, for his appearance has everywhere a gladdening effect. The bootblack, no matter of what nationality, is always good- humored, fond of mischief and practical joking. Though he dearly loves to fight he does not do it out of viciousness, but simply in an exuberance of spirits seeking an outlet. He invar- iably has sporting proclivities, and there is quite a different ring in his voice when he has occasion to cry out an " Extra! all about the prize fight ! ' ' For he often combines the profession of a boot- black with that of a newsboy. He knows all about the fistic heroes of the world, and the names of John L. Sullivan, Jim Corbett. or Bob Fitzsimmons, are more familiar and dearer to him than those of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Not that he lacks patriotism. But he appreciates valor. His weak- ness is ' ' craps ' ' and when he is indulging in his favorite pastime at the mouth of a dark alley when the ' ' cop " is at the other end of his beat it is hard to call him back to the scene of his duty. SHINE 187 ICEMAN 189 THE ICEMAN. As here portrayed, the iceman is a very serious personage. Though he does not neglect his duties as a carrier, his eyes are gazing onward, and his thoughts are evidently far away. It is not difficult to guess the burden of his ruminations. " If , " thinks he, "it is possible to adopt a vast lake as a stock in trade, employ nature, an unsalaried agent, to crystallize its waters by the ton, and, with my aid, dispense the product by the ounce, surely it must be a mistake to suppose that my employers pursue this busi- ness exclusively for philanthropic purposes, The goods are never unseasonable ; wages are moderate, and as long as one customer in each block continues to pay his bills, there can be no risk of loss. The largest item of expense is stationery, and even here economy is practiced, the same bills being used for charges for ice delivered and for ice not delivered." Here his train of thought is interrupted by the falling of a handful of ice, and, as it resolves it- self again to liquid form, he gazes dreamily upon it, and falls into this reverie : ' ' How wonderful are your works, O Nature ! Can it be possible that this little pool of water was but now a solid, precious mass, which, placed upon my scale, would have weighed two pounds, and upon any scale no less than fourteen ounces ? How simple is the process by which this water, converted into ice, again becomes water, after having been charged as ice. Wonder- ful ! wonderful !" So reflecting, he transfers the load which lie has been carrying in his hand to a chest, and, musingly and pen- sively, moves onward. 190 j r. o cr /I t v - . . i ~^ . is "<~r *? *- University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. A 000 775 832