All This Is So Marked,
So Apparent, That It Suffices To Settle In Your Mind The Street Or
Ward To Which An Individual Belongs.
The ways of each street vary.
Here, in front of a well-polished door, stands a showy, emblazoned
carriage, drawn by thoroughbreds; mark how subdued the tints of the
livery are.
There is, however, something distingue about it, and
people hurrying past assume a respectful bearing.
"In the next street, the carriage standing at the door is just as
rich, but its panelling is more gaudy - more striking in colour are the
horses - more glitter - more profusion about the silver harness
mountings. Though the livery has more eclat, there seems to be
less distance between the social status of the groom and that of his
master.
"Walk on further - the private carriage has merged into the public
conveyance; still further, and you find but the plain caleche.
"Finally, every kind of vehicle having disappeared, the house-doors
are left ajar; the inmates like to fraternise in the street. On fine
evenings the footpath gets strewed with chairs and benches, occupied
by men smoking - women chatting al fresco unreservedly - laughing
that loud laugh which says, "I don't care who hears me." Passers-by
exchange a remark, children play at foot-ball, while the house-dog,
exulting in the enjoyment of sweet liberty, gambols in the very midst
of the happy crowd. These are good streets. One travels over them
cheerfully and gaily. An atmosphere of rowdyism, theft, wantonness,
hovers over some thoroughfares.
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