Sixth Avenue, where William Dean
Howells did much of his work; and on beyond the avenue, at No. 150,
Kate Douglas Wiggin evolved _Penelope's Experiences_. Still on
up-town, following the easterly side of the park, in Sixty-fourth
Street, at No. 16, Carl Schurz lived, and in Seventy-seventh Street is
the square house of stone where Paul Leicester Ford met such a fearful
death.

Crossing Central Park to the far west side, the journeyer comes to
wide, tree-lined West End Avenue, and there at Ninety-third Street,
almost upon the shores of the Hudson River, in a locality of beautiful
homes, Brander Matthews, author of _Vignettes of Manhattan_ and _A
Confident To-morrow_, lives and works. Returning down-town on the
westerly side of the city, stop just beyond Amsterdam Avenue and
Eighty-sixth Street before a house, colonial as to its doors and
windows at least, the home of that distinguished naval officer and
writer, Captain A.T. Mahan. On the nearest corner is the church where
funeral services were held over Paul du Chaillu when his body was
brought back from Russia. Down a few streets, John Denison Champlin,
author and encyclopaedist, has his home, in a yellow apartment house,
and half a block along Seventy-eighth Street stands the terra cotta
building occupied by Stedman before he moved to Bronxville. Down to
Sixty-fifth Street now, a dozen steps or more west of Central Park,
Edgar Fawcett conceived _A Romance of Old New York_, before going to
Europe for an indefinite stay.

[Illustration: Lawrence Hutton's House]

In Thirty-fourth Street, midway between Seventh and Eighth Avenues,
visit the solid little brick house, with green shutters and an air of
dignity that proclaims it of another time. This has stood for three
quarters of a century and at one time had no neighbors. There, until
1898, when he went to Princeton, Lawrence Hutton gathered his
collection of objects artistic from all parts of the world; there he
kept his assortment of death masks; there he wrote and entertained his
friends, authors, actors, men of different callings.

[Illustration: De Kay's House--London Terrace]

Let the last step be to that reminder of old Chelsea Village, in
Twenty-third Street beyond Ninth Avenue, called London Terrace. The
Terrace was built when Chelsea was really a village, and exists
to-day long after the village has ceased to have an identity. One
house in the row, No. 413, is particularly interesting, picturesquely
and hi