. Confronted by this spectacle of sickly-faced
immortal creatures, who lie closer than any other wild animals would
lie; who live picturesque, feverish, and appalling existences; who amuse
themselves, who enrich themselves, who very often lift themselves out of
the swarming warren and leave it forever, but whose daily experience in
the warren is merely and simply horrible--confronted by this
incomparable and overwhelming phantasmagoria (for such it seems), one is
foolishly apt to protest, to inveigh, to accuse. The answer to futile
animadversions was in my particular friend's query: "Well, what are you
going to do about it?"

* * * * *

My second glimpse of the folk was at quite another end of the city of
New York--namely, the Bronx. I was urgently invited to go and see how
the folk lived in the Bronx; and, feeling convinced that a place with a
name so remarkable must itself be remarkable, I went. The center of the
Bronx is a racket of Elevated, bordered by banks, theaters, and other
places of amusement. As a spectacle it is decent, inspiring confidence
but not awe, and being rather repellent to the sense of beauty. Nobody
could call it impressive. Yet I departed from the Bronx very
considerably impressed. It is the interiors of the Bronx homes that are
impressive. I was led to a part of the Bronx where five years previously
there had been six families, and where there are now over two thousand
families. This was newest New York. No obstacle impeded my invasion of
the domestic privacies of the Bronx. The mistresses of flats showed me
round everything with politeness and with obvious satisfaction. A stout
lady, whose husband was either an artisan or a clerk, I forget which,
inducted me into a flat of four rooms, of which the rent was twenty-six
dollars a month. She enjoyed the advantages of central heating, gas, and
electricity; and among the landlord's fixtures were a refrigerator, a
kitchen range, a bookcase, and a sideboard. Such amenities for the
people--for the _petits gens_--simply do not exist in Europe; they do
not even exist for the wealthy in Europe. But there was also the
telephone, the house exchange being in charge of the janitor's
daughter--a pleasing occupant of the entrance-hall. I was told that the
telephone, with a "nickel" call, increased the occupancy of the Bronx
flats by ten per cent.

Thence I visited the flat of a doctor--a practitioner who would be the
equivalent