The Metropolitan Hotel, Niblo's Theater, stores and other buildings
occupy the locality. Of the former garden nothing remains save the
ice cream and drinking saloons attached to the theater. These take up
literally as much room in the building as its stage does, and prove
that its proprietor has not altogether overlooked the earlier vocation
which laid the foundation of his fortune. The name by which he calls it
has never changed. It was Niblo's Garden when loving couples ate their
creams or drank their cobblers under the shadow of the trees. It is
Niblo's Garden now, when it is turned into a simple theater and hedged
in with houses. Nay, in the very bills which are circulated in the
interior of the building during the performances you may find, or
might shortly since have found, such an announcement as the following,
appearing in large letters:

"Between the second and third acts"--or, possibly, it may run thus
when opera is not in the ascendant--"after the conclusion of the
first piece an intermission of twenty minutes takes place, for a
promenade in the garden."

You will, I feel certain, admit that this is a marvelously delicate
way of intimating to a gentleman who may feel "dry" (it is the right
word, is it not?) that he will find the time to slake his thirst.

When he returns and his lady inquires where he has been he may reply,
if he wills it:

"Promenading in the garden."