"

"Hym!" coughed Indiman, delicately. "That is a difficulty. But not
necessarily an insurmountable one. Let us consult the street directory,
with minds open and unprejudiced, and our faith will be rewarded--doubt
it not.

"We will pass over the numbered streets and avenues," continued
Indiman. "I am not in the mood for mathematical subtleties, although
there is much of virtue in the digit 9, as every adept knows. Names are
our quest to-day, so listen to them as they run--Allen, Bleecker,
Bayard, Dey, Division--now why Division, do you suppose? What was
divided, and who got the lion's share?"

"A delicate allusion to some eighteenth-century graft," I suggested.
"Consult the antiquaries."

"Oh, it's enough for our purpose that the division itself exists; it
must lie below the 'barbed-wire fence,' somewhere across the line. To
speak precisely, Division Street appears to start at Chatham Square,
and it runs eastward to Grand Street. We will take the Third Avenue
Elevated to Chatham Square, and then ask a policeman. Nothing could be
more simple."

Descending the Elevated stairs, Division Street lay right before our
eyes, and further inquiry was superfluous. Indiman's spirits had risen
amazingly. "Why, it's only an elementary exercise," he said, smilingly.
"Divide an East Side street by a pack of cards, and the quotient is the
Queen of Spades; you simply cannot escape from the conclusion. Forward,
then."

Now, Division Street IS something out of the ordinary, as down-town
thoroughfares go. It is the principal highway to that remote Yiddish
country whose capital is William H. Seward Square, and the entire
millinery and feminine tailoring business of the lower East Side is
centred at this its upper end. In the one short block from Chatham
Square to Market Street there are twenty-seven millinery
establishments--count them for yourself--and with one exception the
other shops are devoted to the sale of cloaks and mantuas and
tailor-made gowns. All on the eastward of the street, you notice. There
is a dollar and a shilling side in Division Street, just as elsewhere.

Talk of Bond Street and Fifth Avenue! Where will you find twenty-seven
millinery shops in an almost unbroken row? What a multiplied vista of
delight for feminine eyes--hats, hats, hats, as far as the eye can
reach. Black hats and white hats; red, blue, and greenery-yallery hats;
weird creations so loaded with gimp and passementerie as to certainly
weigh a po