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Tides of night and mystery, flooding in from the farther, dark, mysterious ocean, all but submerged lower Manhattan; high and beautiful above these waves of shadow, triumphing over them and accentuating them, shone a star from the top of the Woolworth building; flecks of light indicated the noble curve of that great bridge which soars like a song in stone and steel above the shifting waters; the river itself was dotted here and there with moving lights; it was a nocturne waiting for its Whistler; here sea and city met in glamour and beauty and illusion.
Several girls spoke up: “What made you advertise learners if you don't want none?” “I did want some, but I got all I want.” We stuffed the elevator and went on down. As a last try, my lunch and apron and I tore for the Subway and Park Place, down by the Woolworth Building. By the time I reached that bindery there were only two girls ahead of me. A man interviewed the younger.
"What do you feel like, chum?" began Ted, as the two settled into a conversation over their wonderful exploit. "Well, I've been up in the tower of the Woolworth Building and down in a coal mine and up in a Ferris wheel and once I had a ride with Uncle Jim in the cab of a locomotive -but this beats anything I ever had anything to do with!" exclaimed Jack, all in one breath. Ted was gulping a bit.
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