This changed to the shadowy lines of a street that was like a
passage in a monstrous cave. The lamps winking here and there resembled
the little gleams at the caps of the miners. They were not very
competent illuminations at best, merely being little pale flares of gas
that at their most heroic periods could only display one fact concerning
this tunnel--the fact of general direction. But at any rate I should
have liked to have observed the dejection of a search-light if it had
been called upon to attempt to bore through this atmosphere. In it each
man sat in his own little cylinder of vision, so to speak. It was not so
small as a sentry-box nor so large as a circus tent, but the walls were
opaque, and what was passing beyond the dimensions of his cylinder no
man knew.
It was evident that the paving was very greasy, but all the cabs that
passed through my cylinder were going at a round trot, while the wheels,
shod in rubber, whirred merely like bicycles. The hoofs of the animals
themselves did not make that wild clatter which I knew so well. New York
in fact, roars always like ten thousand devils. We have ingenuous and
simple ways of making a din in New York that cause the stranger to
conclude that each citizen is obliged by statute to provide himself with
a pair of cymbals and a drum. If anything by chance can be turned into a
noise it is promptly turned. We are engaged in the development of a
human creature with very large, sturdy, and doubly, fortified ears.
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