16th—It seems to me a recent style that New York ladies discard their babies to leave them in the hands of European immigrants (very likely they want them to learn an ungrammatical hodge-podge, as respectableness is old-fashioned) and accompany a dog with mighty affection.
O my dear “chin” that I left at home!
Shall I call it to Amerikey?
Little loyal thing, pathetic, clinging!
I am sure it would beat any other in a dog contest.
17th—I never saw such hungry eyes in my life as those of an organ-grinder, set upon the windows for a dropping penny.
To an artist they would hint of a prisoner’s bloodshot eyes numbed by useless gazing toward the light of the world.
Poor Italians!
They don’t know one thing but turning the handle.
The last two days they placed their organ—read their sign, “Garibaldi & Co.”—under my apartment at the same hour for my bit money.