the Christian street pasticcerias (pastry shops), where cakes, macaroons, biscuits and wafers of every color beckon to the eye. Equally chromatic are the windows of the bookshops, where bright portraits of General Diaz, King Victor and President Wilson beam down upon knots of gossipers arguing on the sunny side of the street, and a magnificent edition of the Divina Commedia lies side by side with Amore Proibito and I Sotterranei di New York. Another volume whose title is legible even to one with scarcely any smattering of tongues is Il Kaiser All'Inferno!
Some of the shops in Little Italy seem to embrace a queer union of trades. For instance, one man announces his office as a "Funeral agent and detective bureau"; another, "Bookbinder and flower shop." In one window may be seen elaborate plans of Signor Menotti Nanni's Ocean Floating Safe, in which transatlantic passengers are recommended to stow their valuables. The ship may sink and likewise the passengers, but in the Ocean Floating Safe your jewels and private papers will float off undamaged and roam the ocean until some one comes to salve them. The Italian name for this ingenious device is Cassaforte Galleggiante, which we take to mean a swimming strong-box.
No account of Christian street would be complete without at least some mention of the theatres between Eighth and Seventh streets. The other afternoon I stopped in at one of them, expecting
