Ingham, I have
not wanted to. We have really lived in a little world of
our own."
"World of our own!" Polly fairly jumped from her
seat, to Mrs. Wadsworth's wonder. So we had--lived in a
world of our own. Polly reads no newspaper since the
"Sandemanian" was merged. She has a letter or two tumble
in sometimes, but not many; and the truth was that she
had been more secluded from General Grant and Mr.
Gladstone and the Khedive, and the rest of the
important people, than had Brannan or Ross or any of
them!
And it had been the happiest summer she had ever
known.
Can it be possible that all human sympathies can
thrive, and all human powers be exercised, and all human
joys increase, if we live with all our might with the
thirty or forty people next to us, telegraphing kindly to
all other people, to be sure? Can it be possible that
our passion for large cities, and large parties, and
large theatres, and large churches, develops no faith nor
hope nor love which would not find aliment and exercise
in a little "world of our own"?
CRUSOE IN NEW YORK
PART I
I was born in the year 1842, in the city of New York,
of a good family, though not of that country, my father
being a foreigner of Bremen, who settled first in
England. He got a good estate by merchandise, and
afterward lived at New York. But first he had married
my mother, whose relations were named Robinson, a very
good family in her country--and from them I was named.
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