attempt to form a soil on a rocky surface.

There came a grand grab at Astoria and it was each for himself
and the devil take the hindermost--it was a stampede.

System and order went by the board. The strongest stole
the most, as usual, but all got a little. And England's gain in
citizens was our loss.

Astor lost a million dollars by the venture. He smiled calmly
and said, ``The plan was right, but my men were weak, that
is all. The gateway to China will be from the northwest. My
plans were correct. Time will vindicate my reasoning.''

When the block on Broadway, bounded by Vesey and Barclay
Streets, was cleared of its plain two story houses, preparatory
to building the Astor House, wise men shook their heads and
said, ``It's too far uptown.''

But the free bus that met all boats solved the difficulty, and
gave the cue to hotel men all over the world. The hotel that
runs full is a gold mine. Hungry men feed, and the beautiful
part about the hotel business is that the customers are hungry
the next day--also thirsty. Astor was worth ten million, but
he took a personal delight in sitting in the lobby of the Astor
House and watching the dollars roll into this palace that his
brain had planned. To have an idea--to watch it grow--to
then work it out, and see it made manifest in concrete
substance, this was his joy. The Astor House was a bigger
hostelry in its day than the Waldorf-Astoria is now.