It is a block where the citizens have civic pride. A newspaper
has not the least chance of lying about on the asphalt--some
householder with a frequently barbered mustache will indignantly
pounce upon it inside of an hour. No awe. is caused by the
sight of vestibules floored with marble in alternate black and
white tiles, scrubbed not by landladies, but by maids. There
are dotted Swiss curtains at the basement windows and Irish
point curtains on the first floors. There are two polished
brass doorplates in a stretch of less than eight houses.
Distinctly, it is not a quarter where children fill the street
with shouting and little sticks.
Occasionally a taxicab drives up to some door without a crowd of
small boys gathering; and young men in evening clothes are not
infrequently seen to take out young ladies wearing tight-fitting
gowns of black, and light scarfs over their heads. A Middle
Western college fraternity has a club-house in the block, and four
of the houses are private--one of them belonging to a police
inspector and one to a school principal who wears spats.
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