'imposing,' built with the solidity of opulence. The street, as a whole,
has a character and an air of achievement. "Whatever else may be doubted
or denied, American civilisation has produced this." One feels rich and
safe as one walks. Back in Broadway, New York dropped her mask, and
began to betray herself once again. A little crowd, expressionless,
intent, and volatile, before a small shop, drew me. In the shop-window
was a young man, pleasant-faced, a little conscious, and a little bored,
dressed very lightly in what might have been a runner's costume. He was
bowing, twisting, and posturing in a slow rhythm. From time to time he
would put a large card on a little stand in the corner. The cards bore
various legends. He would display a card that said, "THIS UNDERWEAR
DOES NOT IMPEDE THE MOVEMENT OF THE BODY IN ANY DIRECTION." Then he
moved his body in every direction, from position to position, probable
or improbable, and was not impeded. With a terrible dumb patience he
turned the next card: "IT GIVES WITH THE BODY IN VIOLENT EXERCISING."
The young man leapt suddenly, lunged, smote imaginary balls, belaboured
invisible opponents, ran with immense speed but no progress, was thrown
to earth by the Prince of the Air, kicked, struggled, then bounded to
his feet again. But all this without a word. "IT ENABLES YOU TO KEEP
COOL WHILE EXERCISING." The young man exercised, and yet was cool. He
did this, I discovered later, for many hours a day.

Not daring to imagine his state of mind, I hurried off through Union
Square. One of the many daily fire-alarms had gone; the traffic was
drawn to one side, and several fire-engines came, with clanging of bells
and shouting, through the space, gleaming with brass, splendid in their
purpose. Before the thrill in the heart had time to die, or the traffic
to close up, swung through an immense open motor-car driven by a young
mechanic. It was luxuriously appointed, and had the air of a private car
being returned from repairing. The man in it had an almost Swinburnian