File:A tour around New York, and My summer acre; being the recreations of Mr. Felix Oldboy (1893) (14778337694).jpg

Identifier: touraroundnewyor00minea (find matches)
Title: A tour around New York, and My summer acre; being the recreations of Mr. Felix Oldboy
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors: Mines, John Flavel, 1835-1891
Subjects: Historic buildings -- New York (State) New York New York (N.Y.) -- History New York (N.Y.) -- Description and travel New York (N.Y.) -- Buildings, structures, etc
Publisher: New York, Harper & brothers
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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e patriarchof more than two centuries at length fell. An effortwas made to plant a tree of the same stock on the oldsite, but it did not prove a success. At the upper end of the Bowery, Vauxhall Gardenmaintained its reputation as a fashionable place of re-freshment and amusement until the middle of thepresent century. A handsome saloon, in which per-formances were held, and trees and groves under whichtables were set, were the features of this once famousresort. Admission to the garden was free; to thesaloon, two shillings. Here Russell sang, classictableaus were exhibited, and the ballet was danced inproperly lengthened skirts. An old friend writes to me that a two-story, peaked-roof brick house, on the east side of the Bowery (nowFourth Avenue), and upon the site of the presentCooper Institute, was known as the haunted house. It never had a permanent tenant, writes my friend,the lawyer, from the time I first recollect it, nearlysixty years ago, until the time of its demolition, some
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THE STUYVESANT PEAR-TREE thirty years since. The ghosts, it was said, uncere-moniously flung the rash occupants into the streets assoon as the shades of evening had descended upontheir first day of attempted occupation. J A TOUR AROUND NEW YORK 135 CHAPTER XII OUR CITY BURIAL-PLOTS—ILLUSTRIOUS DUST AND ASHES—A WOMANSFIFTY YEARS OF WAITING — THREE HEBREW CEMETERIES — THEBURKING EPISODE—SLAVES OF THE OLDEN TIME Felix, said my grandmother, with an altogetherunaccustomed solemnity, which was emphasized bythe silence of her knitting-needles, do you believethat the angels are in any way like the cherubimcarved on the tombstones in old Trinity Church-yard,all head and wings, and nothing else? I hope not,continued the dear old lady, presently, for it wouldbe awful to live with such creatures for even a thou-sand years. Well, well, it doesnt signify. I supposewe could get used to that, too. But, Felix, just im-agine your poor old grandmother parading a street inthe New Jerusalem in s

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