ward the dry zones of League Island. For this purpose exists the cool haven of McBride, on the corner of Moyamensing avenue. There I encountered one of the best beakers of shandygaff in my experience. And—wonder of wonders—it can still be bought for a nickel.
THE RECLUSE OF FRANKLIN SQUARE
Who can describe the endless fascination, allurement and magic of the city? It is like a great forest, full of enchantment for the eye and ear. What groves and aisles and vistas there are for wandering, what thickets and underbrush to explore! And how curious it is that most of us who frequent the city follow only little beaten paths of our own, rarely looking round the corner or investigating (in the literal sense) unfamiliar byways. We tread our own routine, from terminal or trolley to office, to the customary lunching place, back to the office, and home. Year after year we do this, until the city is for us nothing but a few tedious streets we know by heart.
But how dull it is to be confined to one life, one habit, one groove of conduct. Do you ever pine to shed the garment of well-worn behavior, to wander off into the side-paths of the city, to lose yourself in its great teeming life? The thought is fascinating to me. I like to imagine myself disappearing one day from my accustomed haunts, slipping away into some other quarter of the town,
