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The Man In The Reservoir By: Charles Fenno Hoffman (1806-1884) |
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By Charles Fenno Hoffman
You may see some of the best society in New York on the top of the
Distributing Reservoir, any of these fine October mornings. There were
two or three carriages in waiting, and half a dozen senatorial looking
mothers with young children, pacing the parapet, as we basked there the
other day in the sunshine now watching the pickerel that glide along the
lucid edges of the black pool within, and now looking off upon the scene
of rich and wondrous variety that spreads along the two rivers on either
side. "They may talk of Alpheus and Arethusa," murmured an idling sophomore,
who had found his way thither during recitation hours, "but the Croton
in passing over an arm of the sea at Spuyten Duyvil, and bursting to
sight again in this truncated pyramid, beats it all hollow. By George,
too, the bay yonder looks as blue as ever the Ægean Sea to Byron's eye,
gazing from the Acropolis! But the painted foliage on these crags! the
Greeks must have dreamed of such a vegetable phenomenon in the midst of
their grayish olive groves, or they never would have supplied the want
of it in their landscape by embroidering their marble temples with gay
colors. Did you see that pike break, sir?" "I did not." "Zounds! his silver fin flashed upon the black Acheron, like a restless
soul that hoped yet to mount from the pool." "The place seems suggestive of fancies to you?" we observed in reply to
the rattlepate. "It is, indeed, for I have done up a good deal of anxious thinking
within a circle of a few yards where that fish broke just now." "A singular place for meditation the middle of the Reservoir!" "You look incredulous, sir; but it's a fact. A fellow can never tell,
until he is tried, in what situation his most earnest meditations may be
concentrated. I am boring you, though?" "Not at all. But you seem so familiar with the spot, I wish you could
tell me why that ladder leading down to the water is lashed against the
stonework in yonder corner." "That ladder," said the young man, brightening at the question "why, the
position, perhaps the very existence, of that ladder resulted from my
meditations in the Reservoir, at which you smiled just now. Shall I tell
you all about them?" "Pray do." "Well, you have seen the notice forbidding any one to fish in the
Reservoir. Now, when I read that warning, the spirit of the thing struck
me at once as inferring nothing more than that one should not sully
the temperance potations of our citizens by steeping bait in it, of any
kind; but you probably know the common way of taking pike with a slip
noose of delicate wire. I was determined to have a touch at the fellows
with this kind of tackle. "I chose a moonlight night; and an hour before the edifice was closed
to visitors, I secreted myself within the walls, determined to pass the
night on the top. All went as I could wish it. The night proved cloudy,
but it was only a variable drift of broken clouds which obscured the
moon. I had a walking cane rod with me which would reach to the margin
of the water, and several feet beyond if necessary. To this was attached
the wire, about fifteen inches in length. "I prowled along the parapet for a considerable time, but not a single
fish could I see. The clouds made a flickering light and shade, that
wholly foiled my steadfast gaze. I was convinced that should they come
up thicker, my whole night's venture would be thrown away. 'Why should
I not descend the sloping wall and get nearer on a level with the fish,
for thus alone can I hope to see one?' The question had hardly shaped
itself in my mind before I had one leg over the iron railing. "If you look around you will see now that there are some half dozen
weeds growing here and there, amid the fissures of the solid masonry. In
one of the fissures from whence these spring, I planted a foot and began
my descent. The Reservoir was fuller than it is now, and a few strides
would have carried me to the margin of the water... Continue reading book >>
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