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Updated: May 15, 2025
This newspaper arraignment published in January, 1901, tells the bald truth: "Imagine, if you can, a section of the city territory completely dominated by one man, without whose permission neither legitimate nor illegitimate business can be conducted; where illegitimate business is encouraged and legitimate business discouraged; where the respectable residents have to fasten their doors and windows summer nights and sit in their rooms with asphyxiating air and one hundred degrees temperature, rather than try to catch the faint whiff of breeze in their natural breathing places the stoops of their homes; where naked women dance by night in the streets, and unsexed men prowl like vultures through the darkness on "business" not only permitted, but encouraged, by the police; where the education of infants begins with the knowledge of prostitution and the training of little girls is training in the arts of Phryne; where American girls brought up with the refinements of American homes are imported from small towns up-state, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Jersey, and kept as virtually prisoners as if they were locked up behind jail bars until they have lost all semblance of womanhood; where small boys are taught to solicit for the women of disorderly houses; where there is an organized society of young men whose sole business in life is to corrupt young girls and turn them over to bawdy houses; where men walking with their wives along the street are openly insulted; where children that have adult diseases are the chief patrons of the hospitals and dispensaries; where it is the rule, rather than the exception, that murder, rape, robbery, and theft go unpunished in short, where the premium of the most awful forms of vice is the profit of the politicians.
"I came back," Percy remarked calmly, "because I made up my mind that there is something rotten on in that Commission." Conny, after her talk with the Senator, knew rather more about the Commission than her husband; but she merely asked, "What do you mean?" "I mean that I want to find just who is interested in this up-state water-power grant before I go any farther.
You talk just alike, and you've got just the same notions she had, from what I can make; and she did run away from home. She told me so. She lived up-state somewhere, and was off a farm just like you; and " "But I'm not a farmer, and never was," I put in.
That gentleman had without doubt shown his interest in Jerry Sheming. Fearing that the local legal lights might be somewhat backward about opposing Rufus Blent, he had telegraphed to his own firm of lawyers in New York and they were sending him a reputable attorney from an up-State city who would be at Logwood the next day.
"Lorelei has too much sense for that. She succeeded easily, but she isn't spoiled." Then, in response to a question by Pope, Lorelei told him something of her experience. "We're up-state people, you know. Mr. Bergman was looking for types, and I seemed to suit, so I got an engagement at once.
He comes from up-State somewheres, and I never was one to pry in a boarder's letters or bureau-drawers. I'm just worried sick about it all!" Mrs. Lindsay would have made a superb actress. When the interview was at an end and Mrs.
No train due until 12.25, and that an accommodation from some small town up-State. No taxi fares on such a train as that. The north-bound fast train headed for New York that was late, too. Due at 11.55, Spike had seen a half-frozen station-master mark it up as being fifty minutes late.
It was always so, when he spoke of this foster-mother who had taken these two boys and seen them through the graded schools. This woman Dwight adored, and when he spoke of her he became his inner self. "We must run up-state and see her while you're here, Nin," he said. To this Ninian gave a casual assent, lacking his brother's really tender ardour.
How far the name and idea of Chautauqua have since spread there is no saying, but it was the last of our national inventions which I should have expected to find in Aberystwyth, though Welsh culture was reasonably in its line, and the Eisteddfod was not out of keeping with the summer conferences held beside our lovely up-State lake.
Looks to me like some up-state stockholder who wants to know when Corrugated common will strike 110." "Well, that wouldn't be my guess exactly," says I. "What's the name?" "Dowd," says Vincent, reachin' for a card. "Matthew K" "Eh," says I. "Mesaba Matt. Dowd? Say, son, your guesser is way out of gear. You ought to get better posted on the Order of Who-Who's."
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