CHAPTER XII.
THE DRINKING HOLE IN THE BOWERY.
The beauty of the entrance to the bay of New York, the amazing medley of shipping activity and glorious scenery, have often been described. Even to one who comes upon the capital of the New World, having seen many cities and many men, there is a charm in the sweeping woods and the distant heights, in the group of islets, and the massive buildings, that is hardly rivalled by the
fascinations of any other harbour, that of San Francisco and the Golden Gates alone excepted. If you grant that the mere material of man's making is all very new, its power and dignity is no less impressive. Nor in any other city of the world that I know does the grandeur of the natural environment force itself so close to the very gates, as in this bay which Hudson claimed, and a Dutch colony took possession of so long ago as 1614.
It was about six o'clock in the evening when we brought the Celsis through the Narrows between Staten and Long Islands, and passed Forts Wandsworth and Hamilton. Then the greater harbour before the city itself rolled out upon our view; and as we steamed slowly into it the Customs took
