63 LONG ISLAND, 



" talks horse " with the fast young men who drive down in 

 sulkies, and listens with some show of respectful attention to 

 the "chaff" of sportsmen in the tavern har-rooms. He 

 hears the respective merits of rival rods and guns tenaciously 

 extolled, and politely nods assent when appealed to by the 

 earnest disputants ; but he seldom puts his " oar" in. These 

 little technicalities do not concern him much. 



Has not the city-bred reader, while sestivating in some inland 

 farm-house, often longed for the little delicacies and conven- 

 iences of the city which were lacking there, desking that de- 

 lectable combination of tirhs in riire which would make per- 

 fection — a dash of champagne and oysters with his fresh eggs 

 and milk, for instance ? Well, if it be possible to find that 

 rare union anywhere, it is on the famed " South Side." 

 There are fresh veal cutlets, hog and hominy, beef, biscuit, 

 butter, eggs, milk, all raised or made upon the place and un- 

 polluted by huckster or market-man ; luscious trout fresh 

 from their element, with fried eggs, shad and flounders ; broad- 

 bill ducks, snipes and plover ; sponge-cake, doughnuts and 

 sparkling cider of the best selected apples. And the rarest 

 luxuries of the New York market are wdthin easy reach ! The 

 table cutleiy is unexceptionable, and the china innocent of 

 the omnipresent country blue. An attentive black boy 

 serves you. The guests are of the class, in fact often the 

 same persons, one meets at the Clarendon or Fifth Avenue, 

 and there is no smell of the barnyard or musty boots be- 

 neath the mahogany. And yet the room, the furniture, the 

 house and its appointments, are all of the primitive countiy 

 style. It is the same quaint old structure of seventy years 

 ago with its hugh fire-place where the great back-log flames 

 and smoulders. There are the same diminutive window 

 panes, the low ceiling, and elaborate wainscoting ; the laby- 

 rinth of passages, staircases, and pantries; the tall Dutch 

 clock in the corner, the stiff-backed chairs and the mantel 

 ornaments of stuffed birds and marine curiosities. Over the 

 bar-room door, beneath the porch, is the head and antlers 



