The "old
times" seemed so wonderful to the children. Aunt Patience was the elder
of the two ladies, just turned seventy now, and had lived in New York
all her life. She had seen Washington when he was the first President of
the United States, and lived in Cherry Street with Mrs. Washington and
the two Custis children. Afterward they had removed to the Macomb House.
Everything had been so simple then, people going to bed by nine o'clock
unless on very special occasions. To go to the old theatre on John
Street was considered the height of fashionable amusement. You saw the
Secretaries and their families, and the best people in the city.

But what amused the children most was the Tea Water Pump.

"You see," said Aunt Patience, "we had nice cisterns that caught
rainwater for family use, and we think now our old cistern-water is
enough better than the Croton for washing. There were a good many wells
but some were brackish and poor, and people were saying then they were
not fit to use. The Tea Water pump was on the corner of Chatham and
Pearl, and particular people bought it at a penny a gallon. It was
carried around in carts, and you subscribed regularly. My, how choice
we were of it!"

"There's a pump down here at the junction that's just splendid!" said
Jim, "I used to go for water last summer, it was so good and cold."

"We miss our nice spring at home," said Mrs. Underhill, with a sigh.

"And what else?" subjoined Ben.

"Oh, the milk did not go round in wagons. There were not half so many
people to supply. We kept a cow and sold to our neighbors. The milkmen
had what was called a yoke over their shoulders, with a tin can at each
end. They used to cry, 'Milk ho! ye-o!' The garbage man rang his bell
and you brought out your pail. A few huckster men were beginning to go
round, but Hudson Market was the place to buy fresh vegetables that came
in every morning. And, oh, there were the chimney-sweeps!"

"We had our chimney swept here," said Jim. "The man had a long jointed
handle and a wiry brush at the end."

"But then there were little negro boys who climbed up and down and
sometimes scraped them as they went. But several were smothered or stuck
fast in London and it was considered cruel and dangerous. You'd hear the
boys in the morning with their 'Sweep ho!' and you wouldn't believe how
many variations they could make to it."

"Poor little boys!" said Hanny. "Didn't they get awful black and sooty?"

The boys lau