The Woman Gives: A Story of Regeneration

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book The Woman Gives: A Story of Regeneration by Owen Johnson, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Owen Johnson ISBN: 9781465603012
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Owen Johnson
ISBN: 9781465603012
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English
Teagan’s Arcade stood, and in the slow upward progress of the city it may still stand, at that intersection of Broadway and Columbus Avenue, where the grumbling subway and the roaring elevated meet at Lincoln Square. It covered a block, bisected by an arcade and rising six capacious stories in the form of an enormous H. On Broadway, the glass front was given over to shops and offices of all descriptions, while in the back stretches of the top stories, artists, sculptors, students, and illustrators had their studios alongside of mediums, dentists, curious business offices, and derelicts of all description. The square was a churning meeting of contending human tides. The Italians had installed their fruit shops and their groceries; the French their florists and their delicatessen shops; the Jews their clothing bazaars; the Germans their jewelers and their shoe stores; the Irish their saloons and their restaurants, while from Healy’s, one of the most remarkable meeting-grounds in the city, they dominated the neighborhood. The Arcade, which had stood like a great glass barn, waiting the inevitable stone advance of reconstruction, looked down on this rushing stream of all nations, while occasionally from the mixed races outside, swimming on the current of the avenue, a bit of human débris was washed up and found its lodging. It was a bit of the Orient—the flotsam and jetsam of Hong Kong and Singapore in the heart of New York. It was a place where no questions were asked and no advice permitted; where if you found a man wandering in the long, drafty corridors you piloted him to his room and put him to bed and did not seek to reform him in the morning. This was its etiquette. There were the young and unafraid, who were coming up blithely, and the old and tired, who were going down, and it was understood that those who were bent on their own destruction should do it in their own chosen way—a place where souls in hunger and souls in despair met momentarily and passed.
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Teagan’s Arcade stood, and in the slow upward progress of the city it may still stand, at that intersection of Broadway and Columbus Avenue, where the grumbling subway and the roaring elevated meet at Lincoln Square. It covered a block, bisected by an arcade and rising six capacious stories in the form of an enormous H. On Broadway, the glass front was given over to shops and offices of all descriptions, while in the back stretches of the top stories, artists, sculptors, students, and illustrators had their studios alongside of mediums, dentists, curious business offices, and derelicts of all description. The square was a churning meeting of contending human tides. The Italians had installed their fruit shops and their groceries; the French their florists and their delicatessen shops; the Jews their clothing bazaars; the Germans their jewelers and their shoe stores; the Irish their saloons and their restaurants, while from Healy’s, one of the most remarkable meeting-grounds in the city, they dominated the neighborhood. The Arcade, which had stood like a great glass barn, waiting the inevitable stone advance of reconstruction, looked down on this rushing stream of all nations, while occasionally from the mixed races outside, swimming on the current of the avenue, a bit of human débris was washed up and found its lodging. It was a bit of the Orient—the flotsam and jetsam of Hong Kong and Singapore in the heart of New York. It was a place where no questions were asked and no advice permitted; where if you found a man wandering in the long, drafty corridors you piloted him to his room and put him to bed and did not seek to reform him in the morning. This was its etiquette. There were the young and unafraid, who were coming up blithely, and the old and tired, who were going down, and it was understood that those who were bent on their own destruction should do it in their own chosen way—a place where souls in hunger and souls in despair met momentarily and passed.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book De Conjugio by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book On Death Punishments by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Dweller on the Threshold by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book Sam Lawson's Oldtown Fireside Stories by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book Merry Go Down: A Gallery of Gorgeous Drunkards Through the Ages by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Letter of Petrus Peregrinus on the Magnet, A.D. 1269 by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book Mildred Arkell (Complete) by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book True Tales of Mountain Adventures For Non-Climbers Young and Old by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book Corianton: A Nephite Story by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Expositor's Bible: The Epistle to the Galatians by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Life of Charlotte Bronte (Complete) by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Conquest of Plassans by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book Old Peter's Russian Tales by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Status of the Jews in Egypt by Owen Johnson
Cover of the book The Price of Power: Being Chapters from the Secret History of the Imperial Court of Russia by Owen Johnson
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy