"
Evan's only reply was to keep on walking. We did not cross the "bowling
green," but swung to the right toward Pier I, and took the path between
old Castle Garden and the sea wall at the point where one of the fire
patrol boats was resting, steam up and hose nozzles pointed, lance
couchant wise.
Ah, what a picture! No wonder Miss Lavinia adjusted her glasses quickly
(she is blindly nearsighted), caught her breath, and clung to Evan's arm
as the fresh sea breeze coming up from the Narrows wheeled her about.
Before us Staten Island divided the water left and right, while between
it and the Long Island shore, just leaving quarantine and dwarfing the
smaller craft, an ocean liner, glistening with ice, was coming on in
majestic haste. All about little tugs puffed and snorted, and freighters
passed crosswise, parting the floating ice and churning it with their
paddles, scarcely disturbing the gulls, that flew so close above the
water that their wings touched, or floated at leisure.
The sun that had been gilding everything from masthead to floating spar
gathered in its forces, and for one moment seemed to rest upon Liberty's
torch, throwing the statue into clear relief, and then dropped rapidly
behind the river's night-cloud bank, and presently lights began to
glimmer far and near, the night breath rose from the water, and the
wave-cradled gulls slept.
"Do you like our New York?" asked Evan, turning to go.
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