CAR-DRIVERS AN IRISH FUNERAL. 33 



miles in half an hour. There was too much to see, and 

 too much that was quite new, for the eye to dwell lono- 

 enough on any one object to receive a deep impres- 

 sion, and I hardly knew that the boat had started, 

 when she stopped at the landing-place, and the immense 

 sea of houses of New York, begirt by a forest of masts, 

 lay before us. 



The steamer had hardly landed, when we were sur- 

 rounded by a number of car-drivers, offering to carry 

 our luggage to our destined abode ; we chose two, 

 which took all our things, and for which we had to pay 

 altogether one dollar — but they had a tolerable distance 

 to go. Zellner, who had already been in New York, 

 recommended Schw — z's boarding-house, whither we all 

 went. In all my life I never saw such a dirty establish- 

 ment as old Madame Schw— z's : it makes me sick now 

 to think of it. Of course I did not remain much in the 

 house, but for some days lounged through the fine broad 

 streets, admiring several handsome buildings. I was 

 much struck by the immense amount of shipping 

 ranged thickly side by side all round the town, and by 

 the superfluity of southern fruits ; in every street were 

 carts full of pine-apples, oranges, cocoa-nuts, &c. The 

 finest pines were to be had for from sixpence to a 

 shilling. 



I had wan(fered about for a couple of hours, and was 

 about to return to the boarding house, when turning the 

 corner of a street I came upon one of the most extra- 

 ordinary cavalcades I ever saw. It was the funeral of 

 a poor Irishman, which I will briefly describe, as it is 

 well worth it. First came a hearse covered with dirty 

 cloth that once had been black. The driver was seated 



