now Bleecker Street at
all; perhaps they have passed it a dozen times or more without noticing
it, or if they have marked it at all have regarded it only as a passably
good-looking street going to decay. But he who does not know Bleecker
street does not know New York. It is of all the localities of the
metropolis one of the best worth studying.

It was once the abode of wealth and fashion, as its fine old time
mansions testify. Then Broadway north of it was the very centre of the
aristocracy of the island, and Bond street was a primitive Fifth avenue.
Going west from the Bowery, nearly to Sixth avenue, you will find rows of
stately mansions on either hand, which speak eloquently of greatness
gone, and as eloquently of hard times present. They have a strange
aspect too, and one may read their story at a glance. Twenty-five years
ago they were homes of wealth and refinement. The most sumptuous
hospitality was dispensed here, and the stately drawing rooms often
welcomed brilliant assemblages. Now a profusion of signs announce that
hospitality is to be had at a stated price, and the old mansions are put
to the viler uses of third-rate boarding houses and restaurants.

In many respects Bleecker street is more characteristic of Paris than of
New York. It reminds one strongly of the Latin Quarter, and one
instinctively turns to look for the _Closerie des Lilas_. It is the
headquarters of Bohemianism, and Mrs. Grundy now shivers with holy horror
when she thinks it was once her home. The street has not entirely lost
its reputation. No one is prepared to say it is a vile neighborhood; no
one would care to class it with Houston, Mercer, Greene, or Water
streets; but people shake their heads, look mysterious, and sigh
ominously when you ask them about it. It is a suspicious neighborhood,
to say the least, and he who frequents it must be prepared for the gossip
and surmises of his friends. No one but its denizens, whose discretion
can be absolutely trusted, knows anything with certainty about its doings
or mode of life, but every one has his own opinion. Walk down it at
almost any hour of the day or night, and you will see many things that
are new to you. Strange characters meet you at every step; even the
shops have a Bohemian aspect, for trade is nowhere so much the victim of
chance as here. You see no breach of the public peace, no indecorous act
offends you; but the people you meet have a certain air of independe