A Little Girl in Old New York

by Amanda M. Douglas

And now the talk was that Miss Margaret Underhill had a beau, a handsome young doctor.

"They do think they're awful grand," said Lily to some of her mates. "But they take up with that Dele Whitney, who sometimes does the washing on Saturdays. It's a fact, girls; and the sister works in an artificial-flower place down in Division Street. And the Underhills think they're good enough to company with."

But the fact remained that the Underhills kept a carriage, and that Mr. Stephen had married in the Beekman family, and Chris had heard that Dr. Hoffman was considered a great catch. She was almost twenty and had never kept company yet. Young men called at the house, to be sure, and attended her home from parties, but the most desirable ones seemed unattainable.

Her mother fretted a little that she didn't get to doing something. Here were girls earning five or six dollars a week, and her father's wages were so small it was a pinch all the time.

"I'm sure I make all our dresses and sew for father, and do lots of housework," replied Chris, half-crying.

There were people even then who considered it more genteel not to work out of the house. And since servants were not generally kept, a daughter's assistance was needed in the household.

And to crown the little girl's troubles her dear mayor was retired to private life and a Democrat ruled in his stead.

But there were the new discoveries to talk about, and the reduction of postage due to the old administration. Now you could send a letter three hundred miles for five cents. Hanny wrote several times a year to her grandmother Underhill, so this interested her. At the end of the century we are clamoring for penny postage, and our delivery is free. Then they had to pay the carrier.

The electro-magnetic telegraph was coming in for its share of attention. Scientific people were dropping into the old University of New York, where Mr. Morse was working it. The city had been connected with Washington. There were people who believed "there was a humbugging fellow at both ends," and that the scheme couldn't be made to work. It was cumbersome compared to modern methods. And Professor John W. Draper took the first daguerreotype from the roof of that famous building. That was the greatest wonder of the day. What was more remarkable, a picture or portrait could be copied in a few moments. Then there was a hint of war with Mexico, and the Oregon question was looming up with its cabalistic figures of "54, 40, or fight." Indeed, it seemed as if war was in the air.

Children too had trials, especially John Robert Charles. He had been allowed to go to Allen Street Sunday-school with the Dean children, and he went over on Saturday afternoon to study the lesson. Hanny used to come in, and occasionally they had a little tea. They played in the yard and the wide back area. The boys did tease him; the target was too good to miss. Hanny sympathized with him, for he was so nice and pleasant. They couldn't decide just what name to call him. Bob did well enough for the boys, but it was a little too rough for girls.