If you don't find him come back here; maybe he'll
drop in later, or else someone will who has seen him."
Of course, he is found eventually,--usually quite soon, for the
Village is a small place, and a true Village in its neighbourliness
and its readiness to pass a message along.
Really, there is nothing quainter about it than this intimate and
casual quality, such as is known in genuine, small country towns.
Fancy a part of New York City--Gotham, the cold, the selfish, the
unneighbourly, the indifferent--in which everyone knows everyone else
and takes a personal interest in them too; where distances are slight
and pleasant, where young men in loose shirts with rolled-up sleeves,
or girls hatless and in working smocks stroll across Sixth Avenue from
one square to another with as little self-consciousness as though they
were meandering down Main Street to a game of tennis or the village
store! Sixth Avenue, indeed, has come to mean nothing more to them
than a rustic bridge or a barbed-wire fence,--something to be gotten
over speedily and forgotten.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295