he then took me into a saloon,and while i drank made me note that the floor was covered with coins sunk in cement.ahottentot would not have been guilty of this sort of barbarism.
the coins made an effect pretty enough,but the man who put them there had no thought of beauty,and,therefore,he was a savage.
"then my cab-driver ed me business blocks gay with signs and studded with fantastic and absurd advertisements of goods,and looking down the long street so adorned,it was as though each vender stood at his door howling:--"for the sake of my money,employ or buy of me,and me only!"have you ever seen a crowd at a famine-relief distribution?you know then how the men leap into the air,stretching out their arms above the crowd in the hope of being seen,while the women dolorously slap the stomachs of their children and whimper.ihad sooner watch famine relief than the white man engaged in what he calls legitimate competition.the one i understand.the other makes me ill.
and the cabman said that these things were the proof of progress,and by that i knew he had been reading his newspaper,as every intelligent american should.the papers tell their clientele in language fitted to their comprehension that the snarling together of telegraph-wires,the heaving up of houses,and the making of money is progress.
i spent ten hours in that huge wilderness,wandering through scores of miles of these terrible streets and jostling some few hundred thousand of these terrible people who talked paisa bat through their noses.
the cabman left me;but after awhile i picked up another man,who was full of figures,and into my ears he poured them as occasion required or the big blank factories suggested.here they turned out so many hundred thousand dollars'worth of such and such an article;there so many million other things;this house was worth so many million dollars;that one so many million,more or less.