COPYBIGHT, 1899, BY 



PL.ORIST8' PUBLISHING CO.. 520-535 Caxton Building. CHICAGO. 



Vol. IV. 



CHICAGO AND NEW YORK, JUNE i, 1899. 



No. 79. 



THE NEW YORK PLANT MARKET. 



It was just past midnight as I round- 

 ed the old Clinton Market at Canal 

 and West streets, and stood for a mo- 

 ment contemplating the flag skirted 

 triangle of sward and shrubbery which 

 constitutes the largest portion of the 

 great city's plant market. Wagons 

 heavily burdened with flowering plants 

 rumbled 'round the corner from the 



you were a soldier, you could imagine 

 that the scene before you was that of 

 an army about to embark. There 

 were the transports looming up in the 

 distance, here were the commissary 

 wagons, and the noise of the oncoming 

 carts was that of artillery. 



One o'clock saw a great and funny 

 gathering of vehicles. The grocer and 

 butcher, the peddlers, the push-cart. 



A corner in the store of John Mangel, Chicago, at Easter. 



Jersey and Long Island ferries and oc- 

 cupied their old stands with backs to- 

 wards the sidewalk. The night was 

 Intensely dark here, and yonder an 

 electric light sputtered and glimmered, 

 now throwing a gleam upon the bow 

 of some ocean greyhound, then on a 

 cargo of the world's freight and again 

 on some moving objects which looked 

 more like ghosts than humans. If 



and the old plug's rickety wagon, the 

 farmer's hay wagon, the prosperous 

 florist's gilded van, and the poor flor- 

 ist's "carry everything." It was deep- 

 ly interesting to watch this con- 

 glomeration of Cosmopolitan Bohemi- 

 anism; all nationalities were repre- 

 sented in this singular gathering of 

 men and actions. Some wrapped them- 

 selves up in horse-blankets and dozed 



off to sleep, others walked around to 

 talk of crops or prices. At 2 o'clock 

 there were probably 150 wagons of all 

 shapes and sizes in the assembly. 



Inside in the old Clinton Market 

 (which is an old and low one-story 

 shed-like building covering a city 

 block), in the dim. sickly, flickering 

 gas light the growers and their assist- 

 ants were unloading the thousands of 

 flowering plants, some with an eye to 

 effect and beauty, others with the in- 

 difference born of exhaustion and lack 

 of rest. We noticed one advantage 

 that these men had even though the 

 market is wretchedly lighted, still at 

 3 a. m. they had all their plants in 

 position, and it was possible to dis- 

 tinguish the color as well as the va- 

 riety of flower or plant. We noticed 

 too that the wide-awake buyers were 

 coming fast and soon picked up the 

 choicest of the plants. All was yet 

 dark and comparatively quiet without; 

 there was a certain amount of impa- 

 tience noticeable, however, and soon 

 each man unloaded a portion of his 

 stock on the sidewalk in front of him. 

 If you have ever done outpost or sen- 

 try duty you will know what it is to 

 stand patiently watching the night 

 fighting morning, the deep blue chas- 

 ing the black, then the grey and the 

 silver, the azure and the gold. 



At 4 a. m. all was bustle and excite- 

 ment. The sidewalk was a veritable 

 botanical garden, a grand galaxy of 

 color, a sweetest of emporiums. Men 

 and boys ran hither and thither, carry- 

 ing flats of geraniums, stocks, pansies. 

 or armfuls of miscellaneous plants. 

 We'.I-fed retailers or their dudish buy- 

 ers were there, full of pretentions and 

 with a better knowledge of the grow- 

 ers' weaknesses than of plants. Old 

 women with venerable grey heads, but 

 with tongues of fire and hearts of joy, 

 jostled their way looking for bargains; 

 many of these same women have been 

 buyers at this market since it was 

 started long years ago. By 5 o'clock 

 the best of the plants are sold, the 

 fakirs' wagons commence to steal 



