There is much to catch the eye on a ramble up Vine street from the river, but probably most interesting is a very unexpected stable about number 120. Passing under an archway, one finds a kind of rural barnyard scene; great wooden sheds on each side of an elbow alley, with lines of wagons laid away. There is an old drinking trough of clear water, horses stand munching in the sunshine, and a queer tangle of ragged roofs and small windows overhangs this old-fashioned scene. A few doors further on is an equally unexpected sign in a barber shop window: Cups and Leeches Applied. One also finds a horseshoeing forge in full blast, with patient animals leaning their heads against the wall and rosy irons glowing in the darkness. With similar brightness shone a jug of beer that I saw a man carrying across the street at the corner of Fifth. The sunlight sparkled upon the bright brown brew, and as peanuts are thirsty fodder I pushed through the swinging doors.
