Democratic Sentinel, Volume 16, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 October 1892 — A Gallant Spectacle. [ARTICLE]

A Gallant Spectacle.

Everybody who has had occasion to cross some of the down-town streets during the busiest hours of the day, says the New York Recorder, knows what a perilous undertaking it is; and, unless “one of the finest” is near at hand to act as escort, it is positively risking one’s life. Even strong men feel a cold shiver creeping over them when they brave the terrors of a crossing, where the air is vibrant with the magnetism of plunging, struggling horses, and the yells and “cuss words” of impatient drivers. Every pedestrian, when he lands safely on the opposite sidewalk, feels a sense of relief and thankfulness that he was not ground to pieces or maimed for life. At the intersection of Greenwich street and Park place the writer witnessed some days ago an accident worthy of an artist’s brush. It was almost impossible for anyone to “get on the other side” at that hour, there was such a jammed and fumbled procession of vehicles of every description, with the most uproarious pandemonium. All at once everything stopped, not a wheel moved, the drivers in the foreground of this picture held their reins taut and firm, and as firmly held their mouths shut. All the pressure from behind could not make them budge an inch. The high heads of their horses alone tossed with impatience at their tight-reined restraint. What was happening, anyway? A fair young girl, fifteen or sixteen years old, was making her way alone across the street on crutches! Like the children of Israel passing between the walls of divided waters did the maiden walk securely over the space those manly fellows had cleared for her; and not until she was fairly landed on the sidewalk was a hoof allowed to clatter or a wheel to turn. It was a gallant spectacle.