Ice-cream saloons — crowds on crowds of prome naders — the rattle of wheels — the ringing of the fire bells, and one continuous roar rising like the sea over all, are the contrasts your city now presents to the scene I have been describing. The night closes over haunts of vice, dens of infamy, the gambling house, and the drunken revel. Behold how peacefully it here shuts down over the forest, where the wild bird has gone to sleep beside its mate, and not a restless na holy spirit is abroad!