)
I have mention'd the crows. I always watch them from the boats. They
play quite a part in the winter scenes on the river, by day. Their
black splatches are seen in relief against the snow and ice everywhere
at that season--sometimes flying and flapping--sometimes on little or
larger cakes, sailing up or down the stream. One day the river was
mostly clear--only a single long ridge of broken ice making a narrow
stripe by itself, running along down the current for over a mile,
quite rapidly. On this white stripe the crows were congregated,
hundreds of them--a funny procession--("half mourning" was the comment
of some one.)
Then the reception room, for passengers waiting--life illustrated
thoroughly. Take a March picture I jotted there two or three weeks
since. Afternoon, about 3-1/2 o'clock, it begins to snow. There has
been a matinee performance at the theater--from 4-1/2 to 5 comes a
stream of homeward bound ladies. I never knew the spacious room to
present a gayer, more lively scene--handsome, well-drest Jersey women
and girls, scores of them, streaming in for nearly an hour--the
bright eyes and glowing faces, coming in from the air--a sprinkling
of snow on bonnets or dresses as they enter--the five or ten minutes'
waiting--the chatting and laughing--(women can have capital
times among themselves, with plenty of wit, lunches, jovial
abandon)--Lizzie, the pleasant-manner'd waiting-room woman--for sound,
the bell-taps and steam-signals of the departing boats with their
rhythmic break and undertone--the domestic pictures, mothers with
bevies of daughters, (a charming sight)--children, countrymen--the
railroad men in their blue clothes and caps--all the various
characters of city and country represented or suggested.
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