l are the frescoes and the chandeliers. Everything
else is plain and substantial. Between the hall and the Bowery is the
bar room, with its lunch counters. The fare provided at the latter is
strictly German, but the former retails drinks of every description.

During the day the Atlantic does a good business through its bar and
restaurant, many persons taking their meals here regularly. As night
comes on, the great hall begins to fill up, and by eight o'clock the
place is in its glory. From three to four thousand people, mainly
Germans, may be seen here at one time, eating, drinking, smoking. Strong
liquors are not sold, the drinks being beer and the lighter Rhine-wines.
The German capacity for holding beer is immense. An amount sufficient to
burst an American makes him only comfortable and good humored. The
consumption of the article here nightly is tremendous, but there is no
drunkenness. The audience is well behaved, and the noise is simply the
hearty merriment of a large crowd. There is no disorder, no indecency.
The place is thoroughly respectable, and the audience are interested in
keeping it so. They come here with their families, spend a social,
pleasant evening, meet their friends, hear the news, enjoy the music and
the beer, and go home refreshed and happy. The Germans are very proud of
this resort, and they would not tolerate the introduction of any feature
that would make it an unfit place for their wives and daughters. It is a
decided advantage to the people who frequent this place, whatever the
Temperance advocates may say, that men have here a resort where they can
enjoy themselves with their families, instead of seeking their pleasure
away from the society of their wives and children.

[Picture: THE ATLANTIC GARDEN.]

The buzz and the hum of the conversation, and the laughter, are
overpowering, and you wander through the vast crowd with your ears
deafened by the sound. Suddenly the leader of the orchestra raps sharply
on his desk, and there is a profound silence all over the hall. In an
instant the orchestra breaks forth into some wonderful German melody, or
some deep-voiced, strong-lunged singer sends his rich notes rolling
through the hall. The auditors have suddenly lost their merriment, and
are now listening pensively to the music, which is good. They sip their
beer absently, and are thinking no doubt of the far-off Fatherland, for
you see their features grow so