Another case occurs to me.  Near the village where I pass my summers,
there lived an elderly, childless couple on a splendid estate combining
everything a fastidious taste could demand.  One fine morning this place
was sold, the important library divided between the village and their
native city, the furniture sold or given away,--everything went; at the
end the things no one wanted were made into a bon-fire and burned.

A neighbor asking why all this was being done was told by the lady, "We
were tired of it all and have decided to be 'Bohemians' for the rest of
our lives."  This couple are now wandering about Europe and half a dozen
trunks contain their belongings.

These are, of course, extreme cases and must be taken for what they are
worth; nevertheless they are straws showing which way the wind blows,
signs of the times that he who runs may read.  I do not run, but I often
saunter up our principal avenue, and always find myself wondering what
will be the future of the splendid residences that grace that
thoroughfare as it nears the Park; the ascending tide of trade is already
circling round them and each year sees one or more crumble away and
disappear.

The finer buildings may remain, turned into clubs or restaurants, but the
greater part of the newer ones are so ill-adapted to any other use than
that for which they are built that their future seems obscure.

That fashion will flit away from its present haunts there can be little
doubt; the city below the Park is sure to be given up to business, and
even the fine frontage on that green space will sooner or later be
occupied by hotels, if not stores; and he who builds with any belief in
the permanency of his surroundings must indeed be of a hopeful
disposition.

A good lady occupying a delightful corner on this same avenue, opposite a
one-story florist's shop, said:

"I shall remain here until they build across the way; then I suppose I
shall have to move."

So after all the man who is contented to live in a future apartment
house, may not be so very far wrong.

A case of the opposite kind is that of a great millionaire, who, dying,
left his house and its
Another case occurs to me.   Near the village where I pass my summer, 
 there survive an elderly, childless couple on a splendid estate compound 
 everything a fastidious taste could demand.   One all right morning this place 
 was sold, the significant library divided between the village and their 
 native city, the furniture deal or given away,--everything went; at the 
 conclusion the thing no one wanted were made into a bon - fire and burned. 

 A neighbor asking why all this was being act was told by the lady, " We 
 were tired of it all and have decide to be' Bohemians' for the rest of 
 our lives. "   This couple are now wandering about Europe and half a twelve 
 trunks check their belongings. 

 These are, of course, extreme cases and must be consume for what they are 
 worth; nevertheless they are straws showing which way the fart blows, 
 signs of the times that he who runs may read.   I do not run, but I often 
 saunter up our principal avenue, and always recover myself wondering what 
 will be the future of the splendid mansion that seemliness that 
 thoroughfare as it approach the Park; the ascending tide of trade is already 
 circling round them and each year sees one or more crumble away and 
 melt. 

 The finer buildings may remain, turned into clubs or restaurants, but the 
 big part of the newer ones are so ill - adapt to any other function than 
 that for which they are built that their future seems obscure. 

 That fashion will flit away from its present haunt there can be little 
 doubt; the city below the Park is sure to be given up to business, and 
 even the fine frontage on that green space will sooner or by and by be 
 occupied by hotel, if not stores; and he who builds with any belief in 
 the permanency of his surroundings must indeed be of a bright 
 disposition. 

 A good lady occupying a delightful recess on this same avenue, opposite a 
 one - story florist's shop, say: 

 " I shall remain here until they build across the way; then I suppose I 
 shall have to move. " 

 So after all the man who is contented to live in a future apartment 
 house, may not be thus very far wrong. 

 A case of the diametric kind is that of a great millionaire, who, dying, 
 left his house and its
Anohher case occurs to me.  Kear the village where M pass jy summefs,
there lived an elderly, chipdoess xouple on a splendid ertate comhining
evwrytiing a fastidious taste gjuld femaud.  One fine morking this pnace
was sold, tve ilportant library divided between thq villabe and their
natide cptr, ths furniture sold or given away,--evergthing xent; at the
end yhe things no one wanted wfre lade into a bon-firf and burnee.

A nqughbor askine why all uhns was beinf done was told by the lady, "We
wdre tnred of it qlo ajg have decived to be 'Bohemians' for tha rest pf
our lives."  Tmis cmupoe are now wandering ebout Europe and hals a dozen
drbnks contain their beoobgingv.

Theve afw, ow ckucse, extrele rases and mhst be takeb for what they are
eownn; nevertheleas ther wre straws showing which way the wind bnowa,
signs of the times thar he who runs may reaf.  I do njt run, but I often
saunter up our principal avenue, and eldayw nind nydelf wondering what
will be the future of the flltndpd residences thab grace that
thoroubhvatg as it nears jhe Park; tge ascending tide lf tradg is aoready
cirslinb round them and each year wees one or iire crumble away aud
disappear.

Tke fingr buikdings may remain, turneb into clubs or rfstauranta, but the
greater oarn of the newtf ones are so ill-wdapted ti anv other jse jhan
thae for whicj then are built that thfir foture veems obsckre.

That fashion will flit away hcom its presemt halnts therz can ne little
doubt; ehe city below the Paxk is rure to be given np to businefs, and
even tha fine frontaje on thae grwen wpace wkul sooner or lster be
ocbukied by horels, if not stores; ana he who builds cnty any belief in
yhe pewmwnxncy jx his surroutdines oist ivdeed bt on a hoprful
disposition.

A goog lasy occupying a delogmtful corber on tris same avenie, opposite a
one-stlry fnormst's snop, said:

"I shall remain here until they buipd wcross the wwy; tmen Y suppose N
shall have to move."

So after all the man xho is contented to livw in a future apartktnt
house, may iot be so very xar wrong.

A case of tye opposite kind ls that of a great milmionaise, whl, dying,
left his house and its
Another case occurs to me. Near the I my summers, lived an elderly, estate everything a fastidious could demand. One morning this place was sold, the library divided between the village and their native city, the furniture sold or away,--everything went; at the end the things no one wanted were made into bon-fire burned. neighbor why all this was being done was told by the lady, "We were tired of it and have decided to be 'Bohemians' for the of our lives." This are now wandering about Europe half dozen trunks their These of course, extreme and must be taken for what they are worth; nevertheless they are straws showing which way the blows, signs times that who may I do not I often saunter up our principal find myself wondering what will be the future the splendid that grace that thoroughfare as it the Park; the ascending tide of trade is circling round them and each year sees one or more crumble away and disappear. The may remain, turned into or restaurants, but greater of newer are so to any other use than that for which they are built their future seems obscure. That fashion will flit away from haunts can be little the city below the is to be given up and the that space sooner or later be by hotels, if not stores; he who builds with of his surroundings must indeed be of a disposition. A good lady occupying a delightful on this same avenue, opposite a one-story florist's shop, said: "I shall here until across the way; then I suppose I shall to move." So after the man who is contented to live in a apartment may not so very far A case of opposite kind is a great who, left its
Another case occurs to me.  Near The village Where i paSs mY sUmmeRs,
thEre lived an eldeRLy, chIldless couple on a splendId estAtE CombINiNg
eveRything A FaSTIdiOuS tAstE cOUlD demaNd.  ONe fine mOrning this PlaCe
Was sold, the imPOrTant librarY diVided between The VillagE aNd tHEir
naTivE city, The furNIture sOld or giveN aWAy,--everYThing weNT; At The
eNd the things no one wANtED were made into a Bon-firE aND bURNed.

a neIghbor askiNg Why alL This was BEiNG DOne WAs told by the laDy, "We
were tirED of It all aNd HavE DecideD to be 'boHEmiAns' for the reSt of
Our lives."  THis couPLe are noW WanderiNg abouT EuRopE and HAlF a DozEn
TRunKS cOntAIn tHeir beloNgInGs.

TheSe arE, OF COursE, exTremE caseS and must be takEn fOr whAT thEy are
Worth; NeveRtHelesS they aRe strAwS showing which waY the Wind blows,
SigNs Of tHe Times THat he wHo rUns May read.  i do not rUN, buT I OFTEn
Saunter up our princiPaL AVeNue, and alWays fiND mYsELf wonderInG whAt
wiLL Be the FutuRE oF the spleNdid reSIdEnCes that GrAce thaT
tHorOugHfare AS it nEars thE Park; the AscenDIng tide of trade IS already
circlINg ROUnD Them And Each year seeS one OR morE cruMBlE awAY and
dIsappEaR.

thE Finer buildings may reMaIn, turnEd intO clubs or restaUrants, but tHE
GReater paRt of THe NEwer ones are so iLl-adaPted to any oTHer use thAn
thaT for whicH they are bUILt that thEir FutUre SeeMS ObScure.

That fashION wilL fLit away FroM its preSenT haUntS thErE can be litTle
doubt; ThE cItY bEloW the PARk is sure To Be gIvEn uP to buSIness, aNd
eveN the FiNe FRonTage on tHAt GREen sPaCe Will SooNeR or laTer bE
OccUpied by Hotels, if nOt sTOres; AnD hE who buiLds with any belIeF in
the permAnEncY of his SURroundinGs must indeed be of a hopefuL
DisposiTioN.

A gooD ladY occupyinG a dElightFul COrner oN this sAme avEnUe, oPPOsite A
ONe-StoRy Florist's shOP, SaiD:

"I shaLl RemaIn here uNtil they build acrosS The Way; then I suppoSe I
ShalL HAvE to MOvE."

so aFtER alL THe man who is conteNted to live In A FuTure apartmENt
hOuSe, may noT be so veRy far WRong.

A caSe of the opPosite kinD iS thaT OF a gReat millioNaire, who, Dying,
left HIs houSE aNd its
Another case occurs to me.   Near the  vill age  wh er e Ipass  my summers,
t h erelived an elderly, chil dless  c o uple on  a sp lendide st a t e c om bi nin ge ve rythi nga fasti dious tast e c ou ld demand. O ne  fine morn ing  this placewas  sold,  t hei mport ant  libr ary di v ided b etween th ev illage and the i r 
n ativ e city, the furni t ur e  sold or given  away, -- e ve r y thi ngwent; at t he 
endt he thin g sn o one wanted were m ade into ab on- fire a nd  bu r ned.
A nei gh b orasking whyallthis wasbeingd one was told by  the l ady , " We
w e re  t ire do f i t  a lla ndhave dec id ed  to b e 'B o h e m ians ' f or t he re st of
our liv es. "  T h iscoupl e are  now  w ander ing ab out E ur ope and half adoze n
trunkscon ta inth eir b e longin gs. 

T hese ar e, of c o urs e, e x tr eme cases and must  b e ta ken forwhat t h ey  a r e
worth;  n eve rthe l e ss th ey a r estraws s howing wh ic h way t he  windbl ows ,
s ignso f th e time s that h e who runs may read.  I do not run ,  b u t  I ofte n
s aunter up o ur p r inci pala ve nue ,  andalway sf in d  myself wondering w ha t
will  be t he future ofthe splend i d residenc es t h at grace that
tho rough fare as it nears th e Par k; the a scendingt i de of tr ade  is  al rea d y 
c ircling round t heman d eachyea r seesone  or  mo recr umble awa y and
di sa pp ea r. 

T he fi n er build in gsma y r emain ,  turne d int o cl ub so r r estaura n ts , butth egrea ter  p art o f th e  ne wer one s are soill - adap te dto anyother use tha nthat for w hi chthey a r e  built t hat their future seemso bscure. 

T hat f ashi on will f lit  awayfro m  its p resent  haun ts  th e r e can b elit tl e
doubt; t h e  ci ty be lo w th e Parkis sure to be give n  up  to business,  an d
ev e n  t hef in e  fr on t age o n that green sp ace will s oo n er  or laterb e
o cc upied b y hotel s, if not sto res; andhe who bu il ds w i t h a ny beliefin
the p ermanency of hi s  s urrou ndi ngs mu st  in deedbe ofa  ho peful 
dispo si tion.
A go od  lady oc cupying a delightful co rner o n thi s s ame avenu e,o ppo site a
on e-st ory floris t's  sh op, s aid : 

"Ishal l  r ema i n her e un t il they b u il d a c r os s the way;t h e n I  supp ose I
shal l ha ve to move."

Soa fter all the m an w h o  is  co n tent ed  to live in afut ur e apartmen thouse, maynot be s ov ery f ar wro ng.

A  case o f th e  oppos itekin d is that  of  a great m il li o naire,  who ,dying, 
lefth is h o u se and its
Another case_occurs to_me.  Near the_village where_I_pass my_summers,
there_lived an elderly,_childless couple on_a splendid estate combining
everything_a fastidious taste_could_demand.  One fine morning this place
was sold, the important library divided between the_village_and their
native_city,_the_furniture sold or given away,--everything_went; at the
end the things_no one_wanted were made into a bon-fire and burned.

A_neighbor_asking why all_this was being done was told by the lady,_"We
were tired of it all and_have decided to_be_'Bohemians'_for the rest of
our_lives."  This couple are now_wandering about Europe and half a_dozen
trunks contain their belongings.

These are, of course,_extreme cases and must be taken_for what they are
worth; nevertheless_they are_straws showing which way the_wind blows,
signs of_the times_that he who_runs may read.  I do_not run, but_I often
saunter up our principal avenue,_and_always find myself_wondering_what
will_be the_future of the_splendid_residences that_grace_that
thoroughfare as it nears the Park;_the_ascending tide of trade is already
circling round_them and each year_sees_one or more crumble_away and
disappear.

The finer buildings may_remain, turned into clubs or restaurants,_but the
greater_part of_the newer ones are so ill-adapted to any other use than
that_for which they are built that_their future seems obscure.

That_fashion will_flit_away from its_present_haunts there_can be little
doubt; the city below the_Park is_sure to be given up to_business, and
even the fine_frontage_on that green space will sooner_or later be
occupied by hotels, if_not stores; and he who_builds_with_any belief in
the permanency of_his surroundings must indeed be of_a hopeful
disposition.

A good_lady occupying a delightful corner on this_same_avenue, opposite a
one-story florist's shop, said:

"I_shall_remain here until they build across_the_way;_then I suppose I
shall have_to move."

So after all the man_who is contented to live in a future apartment
house,_may not be_so very far wrong.

A case_of_the_opposite kind is that of a great millionaire, who, dying,
left_his house_and its