THE FIRST SPRING DAY ON CHESTNUT STREET
Winter relaxing its hold, has already allow'd us a foretaste of
spring. As I write, yesterday afternoon's softness and brightness,
(after the morning fog, which gave it a better setting, by contrast,)
show'd Chestnut street--say between Broad and Fourth--to more
advantage in its various asides, and all its stores, and gay-dress'd
crowds generally, than for three months past. I took a walk there
between one and two. Doubtless, there were plenty of hard-up folks
along the pavements, but nine-tenths of the myriad-moving human
panorama to all appearance seem'd flush, well-fed, and fully-provided.
At all events it was good to be on Chestnut street yesterday.
The peddlers on the sidewalk--("sleeve-buttons, three for five
cents")--the handsome little fellow with canary-bird whistles--the
cane men, toy men, toothpick men--the old woman squatted in a heap on
the cold stone flags, with her basket of matches, pins and
tape--the young negro mother, sitting, begging, with her two
little coffee-color'd twins on her lap--the beauty of the cramm'd
conservatory of rare flowers, flaunting reds, yellows, snowy lilies,
incredible orchids, at the Baldwin mansion near Twelfth street--
the show of fine poultry, beef, fish, at the restaurants--the china
stores, with glass and statuettes--the luscious tropical fruits--the
street cars plodding along, with their tintinnabulating bells--the
fat, cab-looking, rapidly driven one-horse vehicles of the
post-office, squeez'd full of coming or going letter-carriers, so
healthy and handsome and manly-looking, in their gray uniforms--the
costly books, pictures, curiosities, in the windows--the gigantic
policemen at most of the corners will all be readily remember'd and
recognized as features of this principal avenue of Philadelphia.
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