floor; no force. Cellars were flooded; pipes leaked. Jersey City, corrupt, neglected, robbed, needed everything. And Mayor Fagan took its needs seriously. He must have more schools, more and better sewers, more water; and he did want to add a public bath and parks and music in the parks. “I wanted,” he says, “to make Jersey City a pleasant place to live in; I’d like to make it pretty.” Jersey City pretty! Were you ever in Jersey City ? I suppose when your train was coming through Jersey City you were gathering up your things and being brushed by the porter; you probably never looked out of the window. Well, look next time and you will see that what the railroad attorneys say is true:
“It’s nothing but a railroad terminal. They talk about the railroads owning it; the railroads ought to own it. It’s the terminal of the traffic of a continent.”
Nevertheless, Mark Fagan, who lived there and who knew personally so many families that lived and must always live there, he, their Mayor, dreamed of making it a pleasant city to live in. How? Money, lots of money, was needed, and how was money to be raised for such a purpose? When he had broached his idea to the bosses it seemed to fill them with disgust, and now that
