124 WINTER SKETCHES. 



I would like to be a millionaire so that I 

 could buy up and pull down the old rookeries 

 which were once the chosen abodes of New 

 York merchants, on State Street, but are now 

 converted into immigrant boarding-houses and 

 tenements, and build dwelling houses in their 

 stead. I fancy that it would be a good 

 investment. What more can a quietly dis- 

 posed family desire than a house comfort- 

 able at all seasons, one which in the summer 

 looks out on the green lawns and trees about 

 Castle Garden, where the sultry winds of July 

 and August are tempered and refrigerated by 

 their passage over the salt waters of the bay 

 and the rivers? There, perhaps, at no very 

 distant day, residents of the New York that is 

 to be above the Harlem will find their summer 

 homes, when Trinity Church shall stand alone 

 in its rural cemetery and the fragments of 

 Wall Street may come into use for fencing the 

 lawns sloping to the river banks and the 

 market-gardens along the sides of Broadway. 

 There will then be no question of getting out 

 of New York. New York will get out of itself. 

 The Harlem River will be its southern boun- 

 dary, and it will stretch away to the north, 

 with the new Croton Lake, ten miles long and 



