I MISS THE SPARROWS. 23 



than of the American style (with the exception of some 

 of the officers of the army of the United States, among 

 whom I have seen grace and strength combined) ; the 

 New Country riders resemble in their seats tongs astride 

 a saddle, with their toes scarcely touching the sort of 

 fire-shovel or small coal-box things they call stirrups. 



As I arrived at the Clarendon Hotel, I perceived that 

 the Ailanthus, as well as the weeping willow, grew by the 

 sides of the foot-pavements of many of the streets, plant 

 ed in such situations for the purpose of protection from 

 the sun ; and that almost all the lesser thoroughfares 

 leading from the .Broadway and principal squares to 

 other parts of the town, were left in so impassable a state 

 of rough and neglected paving that the only conclusion 

 a stranger could come to was, that in this dollar-dealing 

 New World all the by-streets were the property of the 

 coachmakers, and, as a natural consequence, they were 

 kept in that dilapidated state to fracture the springs of 

 their customers' carriages and to increase a coachmaking 

 demand. In those streets also grass was growing up be 

 tween the flags on the footways, giving to the vicinity, 

 state of carriage-way also considered, an idea of desola 

 tion that was disagreeable. Always being on the look 

 out for birds, and there being one of the few pretty little 

 gardens in New York around a house opposite to the 

 Clarendon Hotel, the trees, shrubs, and streets, to my 

 zoologically-inclined mind, wore a solemn cast, for which 

 I could not account. On thinking of London, I discover 

 ed that, in my close contemplation of all things living and 

 dead, I missed the sparrows. In the streets and gardens 

 of New York, and indeed in the entire of the United 

 States, the bird called a sparrow in England does not 

 exist, and they have no house-haunting bird to supply its 



