^MERIC^I^ NEWS CO.,. 
 
 
/ 
 
THE HISTORY 
 
 OF 
 
 ISL 
 
 FROM ITS FIRST DISCOVKRY IX 4, I 1,44, DOWN TO LAST NIGHT^ 
 
 IN RHYME. 
 
 Adapted for all children under eighty-five, with notes by the Editor, 
 (Promissor}- ones,) and x 
 
 PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED 
 
 With Maps and Sketches in Water Colors, Drawings of Bier, and many- 
 Dry Cuts. 
 
 NEW Yr)RK : 
 
 MORRISON, RICHARDSON & CO., 
 
 23 Dey Street, 
 
 1878. 
 
 7/ 
 

 Entered according lo Act of Congrpss, in tne year ISTR, hy 
 
 JIORBISON, BICHAKDSON & CO.. 
 iu tho Office of the Librarian of Congress at WaBhiLgt ii, D. C, 
 
Pi 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 g: HERE old Long Island's southern shore 
 Looks out upon the lagin;^ sea, 
 - A sister island goes before, 
 
 And tempts the surf with dainty knee ; 
 
 And in the breakers lies and hives 
 
 Her glistening bosom in the waves : 
 
 So fair, she seems an isle of .snow, 
 
 Set in old ocean's ebb and flow. 
 
 'Tis Coney Island, fairy ground, 
 
 Where all that charms and cheers is found. 
 
 No wooded vales or hills has she, 
 
 No tropic wealth of vine or tree; 
 
 No prairies that outreach the eye, 
 
 No mountains climbing to the sky ; 
 
 No leaping torrents, boiling springs. 
 
 No jungles filled with snakes and things, 
 
 OR cocoa groves where monkeys screech, 
 But then, she has " Manhattan Beach." 
 A land unclothed with grain or fruit, 
 But fiirest in a bathing suit. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 ET plenty reigns, for her rich coast, 
 Turns up "dead loads" of clams to roast. 
 Huge cod and sea bass crowd the spot 
 Where steams the chowder in the pot; 
 
 A CHOWDER PARTY. 
 
 And oysters slip for fries and stews, 
 From shells like " No. 14 " shoes. 
 Here, urged by nature to abound, 
 The ruby lobster roams around, 
 Sweet-hearted soul as one e'er saw. 
 Who has for all the world a claw ; 
 With ^gg and oil and lettuce in 
 He's the ideal Salad-in. 
 Here, natives of this bounteous land, 
 Soft crabs and clams walk hand in hand ; 
 Sheepsheads and skates and terrapins, 
 And everything with tails or fins ; 
 White fish and black fish here abound. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 HE well fed whales go spouting 'round; 
 And last to crown the list of fishes, 
 Comes whitebait, best of English dishes. 
 
 No island in the tropic zone, 
 Can boast such riches of its own, 
 For Kidd his treasure buried here, 
 They've found it now — 'twas lager beer. 
 
 Way down its annals first oegin. 
 Where History sticks her shortest pin, 
 And borne on Time's unceasing flight, 
 Comes down to ten o'clock last night. 
 Nay more, this is her proudest boast, 
 Time filled his sand glass on her coast. 
 
 ' 11 
 
 THR COUNT DISCOVERINii CONEY-AC 
 
 Who peopled first this fair domain, 
 The Count Joe Hannis wont explairf. 
 Perhaps Phoenicians first invaded, 
 And in the breakers bare-legged waded ; 
 Or here Egyptians steered their galleys, 
 Or Romans roamed her hills and valleys. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 Perhaps the Greeks, perhaps the Scythians, 
 But never mind, it makes no difference ; 
 Whoever 'twas, found heaps of rich things, 
 In samphng first her clams and sich things. 
 
 ET, that these duffers of the past, 
 Have surely been here, first or last, 
 -^ Is proved by facts no one denies, 
 '(C^ Quite plain enough for skeptic eyes. 
 For even at this day of grace. 
 There meets you here in every place. 
 Relics of all these ancient races, 
 
 In Roman noses, Grecian faces , 
 
 And sometimes in sequestered ground, 
 
 Are traces of old Faro found. 
 
 TRACES OF FARO. 
 
 * 
 
 But relics are not her delight. 
 She joys in what is young and bright ; 
 And when the glass at 90° stands, 
 And youth and beauty crowd the sands, 
 When clams and beer begin to sizz, 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 H ! what a lovely spot this is 
 
 To Norton's, at the western end, 
 Crowds from the steamboat's landing wend; 
 The brave and fair meet side by side, 
 Where from the broad Atlantic's tide 
 The swell rolls in with constant roar, 
 To meet the -'swells" upon the shore ; 
 Who, issuing from the bathing houses 
 In cfinp^ing suits and flowing blouses; 
 
 Both sexes in the waves are met, 
 
 Who plunge, and posture, and coquette. 
 
 BATHING AT THE WEST END 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 THE THREE MEN WHO NEVER SAW CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 How welcome then the waves caresses, 
 What grateful garments — bathing dresses, 
 As on her threshhold, glad to greet us, 
 Old mother Ocean flies to meet us ; 
 Like children who have long been strangers. 
 Exposed to distant lands and dangers. 
 With outstretched arms she hastes to take us. 
 And hugs us in her mighty breakers ; 
 And slams us down and dances round us. 
 And treads upon, and tries to drown us ; 
 With sand and seaweed decks our tresses. 
 And fills our mouths with briny messes, 
 But swells our lungs with pure ozone, 
 And screws our muscles into tone ; 
 Works on the outer man and inner, 
 And makes us long for love and dinner 
 
 A loving nurse Old Ocean is, but oh, 
 Don't let her ever gel you under tow. 
 
HISTORY OF COAEY ISLAND. 
 
 Here met the famished men who dub 
 Their band the "Impecunious Club," 
 And clams were all tha they were able 
 To put upon thei- meagre table, 
 And yet, despite such '•canty cheer, 
 They get a meal but once a year. 
 They dined on clams and water pure, 
 And gave the fragments to the poor. 
 Care to the vinds then each one gave, 
 And drowned his sorrows in the — wave. 
 
JO 
 
 "/SrOR V OF COXE V ISLAND. 
 
 Fair Island, in ihy mid-day dress, 
 ^^'ords fail lo tell thy loveliness, 
 But when the sun sinks in the west, 
 'Tis then you seem the loveliest ; 
 For then thy sands are turned to gold. 
 The ocean into silver rolled ; 
 The sky puts on a deeper blue, 
 T'he clouds blush to a brighter hue. 
 The breezes stir, the air grows fine, 
 You feel it stiffen up your spine 
 Just like a bottle of old wine. 
 
 UCH was the scene our poet viewed 
 From the pavillion, where he stood. 
 The muse so filled his bursting soul 
 (Assisted by the flowing bowl), 
 To strain the h(>ops it nigh begun, 
 \» he turned the tap and let it run. 
 
i^ Owed to Coney Wlkud. 
 
 Fair Coney, you re a sunny spot 
 
 Upon old ocean's wrinkled blueness ; 
 
 While Rome and Athens arc forgot, 
 You're shining with a perfect newness. 
 
 How like a queen the throne you fill, 
 Above all these surrounding islands ; 
 
 Your hand can touch old Staten's hill, 
 
 You look down on the mighty Highlands. 
 
 TVar 
 
 off the tower of Navesink, 
 
 At sunset seems to rise and stand, 
 Like Cyclops with his e)c awink. 
 To watch for seamen cast astrand. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAXD. 
 
 Yet, but a beacon light it burns, 
 To safely guide the mighty fleet, 
 
 That hourly, with rich freightage, turns 
 Thy latch-key to the World's retreat. 
 
 Like Cinderella, of the shoe, 
 
 These green clad sisters used to scorn. 
 'Till came the adoring Prince to woo. 
 And raise thee over elder born. 
 
 Now 'round thee waits on either hand, 
 The wealth and power of land and sea ; 
 
 The mightiest serve at thy command. 
 And Beauty yields her crown to thee. 
 
 TAIL PIECE. 
 
Chapter II. 
 
 THE OLDEST INHABITANT OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 REATHES there a man with soul so dead, 
 
 Who never to himself hath said— 
 
 I will some maiden fair implore 
 
 To go with me to Coney's shore ? 
 
 If such there be, let him repent, 
 
 Before his money is all spent; 
 
 And with sweet words let him invite 
 
 The gentle girl to this delight. 
 
 She'll go, you bet ! make no mistake, 
 
 And )'ou can cars or steamboats take. 
 
*4 
 
 WSTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 HEAVY WEIGHTS ON THE SAND. 
 
 any point, for all roads tend 
 To Coney Island, off Gravescnd. 
 Should you a stranger be, nor know 
 
 The easiest route that you should go, 
 
 Go with the biggest crowd you see, 
 
 And that the favorite route will be. 
 
 It matters not how learned you be. 
 
 How traveled over land and sea ; 
 
 How much you've seen, how much you've read, 
 
 You've got surprises right ahead, 
 
 h nd sights you never saw before 
 
 You'll see on Coney Island's shore. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 ^S 
 
 TWO HEARTS WITH BUT A SINGLE THOUGHT, UNDER ONE UMBRELLA. 
 
 W poor the grandeur and display, 
 How shrinks the shallow pomp away, 
 The plaster that the old world sticks, 
 To hide its ugly rows of bricks, 
 Beside the grandeur of our land 
 Displayed on Coney Island's strand. 
 
 HAT other watering-place can boast 
 -The vastness of this island's coast ? 
 Can Newport or Boulogne-Sur-Mer, 
 Can Long Branch or Dieppe compare?" 
 Can any one or all .^f these 
 So woo you to the sounding seas? 
 
Jt 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 WHEN SHALL WE THREK TWEET AGAIN 
 
 Can any sliow a wave so pure, 
 
 A sand so anchored and secure, 
 
 A beach that stretches to such lengths? 
 
 I give it up, ask Mrs. Jenlcs. 
 
 TONY PASTOR AND WHOA EMMA. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 n 
 
 But come with me and we'll survey 
 The various objects on the way. 
 From Norton's, where the steamboats land, 
 We gaze for miles adown a strand, 
 Where giant waves, with sullen roar, 
 Break on the white and glistening shore. 
 
 Along this line of tempting beach, 
 Hotels and vast pavilions reach ; 
 Some safely back upon the land. 
 Some standing boldly on the strand 
 Tier upon tier, and over these, 
 
 ACH nation's banner woos the breeze. 
 To name them all it would, I think, 
 Use up a " schooner " full of ink ; 
 But Rasher's name we cannot pass, 
 Who'll furnish " rashers " and a glass ; 
 Nor Ryan's, where stage people dine 
 And say they get the best of wine • 
 
 Tilyou's, which the ladies say, 
 the best bath-house on the way. 
 Tlie Newark House, and Welsh and Gleason, 
 Ward's Sea-side House, and Dibb's and Thompson, 
 
 Feltman's and Leopold's then are seen, 
 While scores unnamed come in between. 
 
i8 
 
 HIS TOR Y OF CONE V ISLAND. 
 
 CULVER S TOWER. 
 
 Before us now a structure stands 
 With iron feet upon the sands, 
 That towers full fifty fathoms high, 
 Up in a blue and cloudless sk/ ; 
 Higher in air its head it sticks 
 Than Babel's famous pile of brick? ; 
 And, like this tower, by the same token, 
 For here all languages are spoken. 
 
 Here daily sail promiscuous crowds, 
 
 PON this railway to the clouds ; 
 And get, without a thought of fear. 
 As high as Jove to drink their beer. 
 And on ambrosia getting mcrr}-, 
 Smile dow^n on all things sublunary. 
 
 Around its base on every hand 
 Hotels, saloons and gardens stand. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLANi:i 
 
 19 
 
 Here is a vast and bright saloon, 
 Where bier and music flows in tune. 
 Adorned with many a tropic flower — 
 'Tis the gay kingdom of the genial Bauer. 
 
 O the "Atlantic " do not miss a ca^l, 
 And touch your glass with thriving Paul ; 
 To thousands he good cheer extends, 
 And makes each day ten thousand friends. 
 
 Here are the Island's pioneers, 
 
 Culver, and Cable, VanderveerS, 
 
 Who greet their friends successive years. 
 
 ND the Grand Union's hand extends 
 A welcome to all lady friends ; 
 Home comforts and securities 
 For ladies, is the Union's "biz." 
 
 Here, stretched far out above the tide, 
 .s Voorhees's bath-house, long and wide. 
 Where you can sit and hear the beat 
 Of ocean waves beneath your feet ; 
 Or, if you bathe, need do no more 
 Than drop down through the parlor floor. 
 
 Here the Aquarium meets the eye, 
 
 Which visitors should not pass by. 
 
 And say they've other fish to fry. 
 
 Within, vast rows the eye engages, 
 
 Of wild beasts of the sea, in cages ; 
 
 All kinds, from whales to periwinkles. 
 
 Sun fishes shine, the star fish twinkles, 
 
 Sea monsters, sturgeons, sharks and shrimps, 
 
 On stiff-kneed legs the lobster limps. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND, 
 
 SUSAN S ' ' SUNDAY OUT. 
 
 The hard-shell crab goes sideling by, 
 Wtth murder in his little eye. 
 
 LL sorts and sizes here you view, 
 Of those you eat and that eat you ; 
 And you can see, in this strange spot. 
 How fish look ere they go to pot. 
 Here pressing boldly to the side, 
 Engeman's pavilion braves the tide, 
 Around, beneath, a constant flow 
 Of beer above and wares below. 
 
1B^mS¥o]^ S^E^SdS. 
 
 
 
 
 8 Q 
 
 o 
 
 Half way the Island, now our footsteps icach, 
 The New World's Brighton, built on Culver's beach. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 HERE stands the Brighton's glittering pile^ 
 A bright spot on this fairy isle. 
 Sweet flowers and faces here abound, 
 Antl makes it seem enchanted ground. 
 Here Brooklyn's beauteous dames assemble. 
 And make their plainer neighbors tremble. 
 With nymphs so fair to tempt the lips, 
 No wonder Brooklyn sometimes slips. 
 
 TWO ORPHANS. 
 
 |The children, let me not pass them, 
 Sweet buds upon the parent stem, 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 ^J 
 
 They flit around like butterflies, 
 With rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, 
 With pink legs bared above the knee, 
 Go wading in the shallow sea. 
 They dig the sand, the donkeys ride, 
 Or round the swift carousal glide, 
 At Punch and Judy's quarrels gaze, 
 And pass long, happy, healthful days, 
 
 Happy nurslings, that I could 
 
 Bring to these shores all baby-hood, 
 
 And^bid it breathe the stintless air. 
 
 In Ocean's matchless tonic share ; 
 
 ' Twould make, I'm sure, the whole world glad, 
 
 And none but bachelors be mad. 
 
 A BROOKLYN BEAUTY BATHING AT BRIGHTON BEACtt, 
 
>i^;KSS¥'i'^K S^^c^S 
 
 ARTISTS ON THE BEACH. 
 
 all conveyances that reach, 
 
 New Yorkers crowd Manhattan Beach 
 
 They fill the hot. 1 and display 
 Themselves in an alarming way. 
 Such stacks of people here you'll find, 
 It seems no one is 'eft behind, 
 But the procession never ceases, 
 And mine host Kiefer's joy increases, 
 As in his palace by 'he sea, 
 
»6 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 "S. lives and thrives prodigiously. 
 
 In manly garb and female robe, 
 
 New York, (and that takes in the globe,) 
 
 Comes to Manhattan once a day. 
 
 To bathe and hear Graffulla play. 
 
 From Wall Street and Fifth Avenue, 
 Its fashion and its wealth you view. 
 
 REAT railroad magnates, bankers, clerks. 
 The man who thinks, the man who works, 
 With skill or cunning, head or hand, 
 All mingle on the level sand; 
 And here, on this protean Isle, 
 Is seen the widest range of style. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 27 
 
 THE NEW YORK GIRL. 
 
 Here come the stately New York dames, 
 •Who boast of Knickerbocker names, 
 The girls from Boston and Chicago, 
 From New Orleans and Colorado ; 
 The Montrealers and Quebeckers, 
 The Western girls, great double deckers. 
 The Down East girls, tall, queenly misses. 
 With saucy mouths just made for — chowder. 
 Sweet Philadelphians, calm, sedate 
 And even-tempered, like their State. 
 Girls who are blonde, and round and pretty. 
 The product of rich Cincinnati. 
 With melting eyes and tint brunette. 
 The maiden from the South is met ; 
 
g8 HISTOR V OF CONE Y ISLAND. 
 
 And those, who anchorites would thaw, 
 Drop in from distant Omaha. 
 
 THE GIRL FROM BOSTING. 
 
 How strange it seems to look and think, 
 
 That on this strip of ocean's brink, 
 
 Here, where a few short years ago 
 
 No foot save ocean's undertow 
 
 Had pressed the sand, there now are seen 
 
 All sizes, up to " broad 14." 
 
 That this lone shore and sobbing sea. 
 Were all each others company; 
 
HISTORY OF cONEV ISLAND. 
 
 39 
 
 Then, where sandpipers fed and rails, 
 Now, fashion drags her silken trails. 
 Here, where the grandsires, daring men, 
 Braved the fierce quohog in his den, 
 Their sons their hardihood revives, 
 And hunt around for wealthy wives. 
 And daughters, not to be behind them. 
 Scoop in good looking men and bind them. 
 
 AN HEIRESS FROM NEW ORLEANS, 
 
 Here mid'st a thronging sea of faces, 
 Are types of all Earth's varied races. 
 Here all man's comforts and delights 
 Cheer in the day and soothe thg nights. 
 
oO 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 Na] kirs and toothpicks when you dine, 
 Sp:i g leds and sheets when you redine. 
 And to leave nothing more to need, 
 You come or go at Railway speed, 
 And if your wearied legs should fail, 
 Can promenade the beach by rail. 
 
 WHAT ARE THE WILD WAVES AYING, SISTER ? 
 
 What healthful influence resides, 
 In Coney's sands and ocean tides ! 
 One hour beside this bounding sea 
 Is worth more than the Pharmacy ; 
 One breath from off this mighty bay 
 Sweeps pain and weariness away ; 
 One plunge into its emerald floods 
 Stirs up tha sluggish streams of blood. 
 Makes the small great, the big feel bigger, 
 And flesh and soul renews with vigor. 
 
HISTOR Y OF CONE V ISLAND. 
 
 In olden times this was the cry 
 Of travellers, "See Rome and die." 
 Now the advice the wise ones give, 
 Is "See Manhattan Beach and live." 
 
 MANHATTAN 
 
THE 
 
 L(e^ei\d of Coiijey I^lkr^d. 
 
 Wherein is related a fact of its early history, and which 
 is supposed to be connected with the disappearance in the 
 surf, on July 34th, of an unknown and mysterious gentleman^ 
 See papers of that date. 
 
 Part I 
 
 no island on the zone. 
 But has a legend of its own. 
 Some startling romance of its youth, 
 Complete in everything but — truth. 
 But Coney Island's famous mystery 
 Is true — as any of this history. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 iS 
 
 _/7. 
 
 T"\vas told me by an ancient man, 
 Past many years the allotted span ; 
 Young men may lie, but he was old. 
 And vouched for every word he told. 
 
 'Way back in Coney's early days, 
 Before Ben Builer, Cox or Hays, 
 A ruddy Dutchman bore him sway 
 From Norton's point lo Rockaway. 
 Here, like a patroon, at his ease 
 He lived, with children at his knees. 
 
34 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 lEDERICK Von Smitzerl was his name, 
 S- From / msterdam his forebears came, 
 
 And all there was to mar his life, 
 Were sundry notions of his wife ; 
 For she was active and emphatic, 
 In striking contrast to her husband, 
 Who was rather round-cornered and lymphatic. 
 
 One day, so runs the thrilling tale, 
 
 Frau Smitzerl's appetite did fail 
 
 To herrings, sour-krout, wurst and cheese, 
 
 Pretzels, zweibake, and things like these, 
 
 Bologna and Westphalian hams. 
 
 And sent her good man out for clams. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLANL 
 
 35 
 
 The day was cold, and Smitzerl sighed, 
 Quite loth to leave the chimney side, 
 But good Frau irmitzerl's way was winning, 
 And had been so from the beginning. 
 So he with bucket and a spade. 
 Tracks for the nearest clam patch mide. 
 
 OUD roared the surf, the gulls flew in, 
 Poor Smitzerl shivered in his skin. 
 
 He tried for clams, but they were shy — 
 The poor man sat him down to cry. 
 But while he moaned in misery, 
 His salt tears mingling with the sea. 
 
 A mermaid from the wave rose dripping, 
 
 And unto Diedrieck's side came tripping, 
 
 As mermaids of this later date 
 
 Would do to one in such a state. 
 
 Into her ears, in accents brief, 
 
 Poor Smitzerl poured his clammy grie'". 
 
30 
 
 HTSTORY OF COS^EY ISLAND. 
 
 The maiden "s tender- heart was torn. 
 
 To hear how much poor Dirck had borne. 
 
 She clasped his hand, "Come thou with me," 
 
 She cried, " and you a prince shall be : 
 
 No longer serve so harsh a Mrs. , 
 
 Who calls for clams a day like this is." 
 
 "I am a princess, and my throne 
 And coral halls shall be your own. 
 Then come with me, and we will rule, 
 And have our lager, always cool." 
 
 Poor Smitzerl scratched his head and turned, 
 To where his distant ingle burnei.!. 
 He saw Frau Smitzerl at the door — 
 Frau Smitzerl saw him never more. 
 
 Hat happened when they went below. 
 My old informant didn't know ; 
 Until one day, come twenty years, 
 Herr Diedrich on the shore appears. 
 
 Looking as young, and fair and hearty, 
 As when he joined the ocean party ; 
 And so well dressed he ne'er was seen, 
 In coat and small clothes, bottle green. 
 He seemed to have a mine of "chink," 
 He stood old neighbors all they'd drink. 
 But never once went near the door, 
 He left so many years before. 
 For old Ffau Smitzerl was, they told him, 
 Still hale and hearty, and might — scold him. 
 
 That night again he disappears. 
 And for another twenty years 
 Dame Smitzerl got along without him ; 
 Tiie neighbors they forgot about him, 
 
HISTORY OF COXEV ISLAND. 
 
 Then h;uddenly atain was seen, 
 Dierck and his shining suit of green. 
 He seemed still rich, and young and spry. 
 He found his neighbors old and — drv. 
 
 S7 
 
 K e\-e, a crony as they sat 
 ver their la^er for a chat, 
 • entured to ask. of Smitzerl where 
 He kept himselfwheu he wasn't there. 
 
 At this, Von Smitzerl slyly winked, 
 
 A score of yellow ducats chinked, 
 
 Then to this wondering friend related, 
 
 The story that is here narrated. 
 
 And furthermore, gave him a notion. 
 
 Of high old times beneath the ocean. 
 
 •Of emerald bowers, and coral beds, 
 
 Of mermaid blc>ndes with pea green head.s. 
 
ss 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 Of countless treasure, diamond mines, 
 
 Limburger cheese and Hamburg wines, 
 
 And bags of things that in the sea, 
 
 They had at hand full lavishly. 
 
 "His mer-wife was no scold," he said, 
 
 " No cabbage patch was to be wed ; 
 
 No tubs of water had to bring. 
 
 On washdays from a distant spring, 
 
 No wood to chop, no fires to light. 
 
 But just loaf round from morn 'till night. 
 
 With jolly comrades, half seas over, 
 
 And live in luxury and clover. 
 
 And more, we ne'er grow old nor crusty, 
 
 But in the salt keep fresh and lusty. 
 
 " He had no wish," he said, " to stay 
 Long from his ocean home away. 
 Earth was so dull, and slow, and grim. 
 One day on shore sufficed for him," 
 
Part II. 
 
 HE years rolled on, the Island grew, 
 
 The old gave way before the new. 
 
 Old Diedrich's neighbors turned to clay, 
 
 The children followed in their way. 
 New settlers filled the vacant spots, 
 And Diedrich's farm was sold in lots. 
 His great grand children rolled in pelf, 
 And quite forgot old Dirck himself 
 The girls wore laces, silks and things, 
 Outside their gloves wore diamond rings ; 
 
 THE CHEAPEST DONKEY ON THE BEACH. 
 
40 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 Scolded their cooks in Paris talk, 
 
 And tried in " No. 3s " to walk. 
 
 The boys had yachts and four in hands, 
 
 And raised the wind on Smitzerl's lands. 
 
 For where their grandsire's cottage slept, 
 
 A city of hotels was kept. 
 
 His farm, once stocked with cabbages, 
 
 Bloomed now with pretzels and Swiss cheese j 
 
 And where the brook ran cross the road, 
 
 A flood of Ehret's lager flowed. 
 
 DRESSING IT FOR A TRIP TO CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 The lane became a lighted street, 
 Filled by gay teams with prancing feet, 
 And on the sands where Smitzerl moped. 
 Ere fron. Frau Smitzerl's sight he sloped. 
 Thousands of bathing houses stood. 
 And modem mermaids gemmed the flood. 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 4r 
 
 IDST of this scene of modern j'"llity, 
 
 Of gilt-edged sport and fair frivolity, 
 
 A stranger in the throng was seen, 
 
 Clad in a suit of glossy green. 
 
 None knew him, nor from whence he came. 
 
 No hotel clerk could give his name ; 
 
 But still he moved like one of rank. 
 And paid for all the beer he drank, 
 And paid for all who'd join him, too. 
 And these, you bet, were not a few. 
 But one thing that seemed rather strange, 
 He always gave doubloons for change. 
 Though these things seemed of ancient days, 
 He dropped right sharp to modern ways. 
 On bathing hours he walked the sand, 
 A natty cane within his hand, 
 Ogled the girls who put on style, and 
 That takes all upon the Island. 
 
 ABTKR THK TRIP TTIK EFFECT ON' THK HEAJ>. 
 
42 
 
 HISTORY 01 CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 He went in bathing, here a wonder, 
 He'd stay an hour the water under, 
 And when he came from out the water. 
 Would look as dry as any otter. 
 
 This put the Beach into a maze, 
 
 That lasted for a score of days, 
 
 At wondering who a man could be 
 
 Who seemed at home when out to sea. 
 
 So deep at last the mystery grew, 
 
 Of guessing on this question "Who?'' 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 I WISH A SUIT OF ROOMS. 
 
 The poor man might have been arrested. 
 And courts his sanity contested ; 
 Have had his life by mobs imperiled. 
 Or interviewers on the Herald, 
 Had not the stranger seemed to think, 
 'Twas time to tip them all the wink. 
 
HISI OR V OF CONE V ISLAND. 
 
 4S 
 
 That day he took his usual dip, 
 Among the throng from Brighton's sHp. 
 Then, though the hour and day passed by, 
 Was seen no more by mortal eye. 
 
 launched the life boats, made a stir. 
 And then they called the coroner. 
 
 But as the body never rose, 
 The coroner sat on his clothes. 
 
 And alter several hours he'd sat, 
 
 He gave as his opinion "that 
 
 It wasn't worth their while to mind him, 
 
 Because he'd left no name behind him. 
 
44 
 
 HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 No matter where he thought to look, 
 Upon his socks or pocket book, 
 He'd searched all 'round, with care official, 
 But couldn't find a blamed initial. 
 
 WE ARE FULL, SIR. 
 
 His clothes no finer could be seen, 
 
 Of feultless cut, and glossy green, 
 
 But not on these could any find, 
 
 Great NichoH's shop mark, 'fore or 'hind ; 
 
 And this, the coroner said, proved 
 
 He must fi-om other worlds have moved. 
 
 But here came in an incident, 
 Which shed some light, far as it went 
 When from the fob his watch they took, 
 The jeweler, Sheehan, came to look, 
 And he at once did recognize, 
 The timepiece by its shape and size, 
 
HISTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 45 
 
 S one a buyer did select, 
 And later, off at sea was wrecked ; 
 Though how this man came in possession. 
 He couldn't offer a suggestion. 
 
 Then as they wona^red still the more, 
 And pawed the lost man's fixin's o'er, 
 A strange occurence came to view, 
 That paled each cheek to ashen hue ; 
 The clothes and jewels, watch, and all, 
 Seemed slowly shrinking very small, 
 Or else their eyes were growing blind. 
 Far soon no trace was left behind. 
 All, all were gone to mortal view, 
 And then, the coroner went too. 
 
 
u'JiTORY OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 WAITING FOR A SWELL. 
 
 TILYOU'S BATHING ESTABLISHMENT 
 
 BATHING SUIT AND CLAM CHOWDER, 
 
 35 CENTS. 
 
 BATHING SUIT WITHOUT CHOWDER. 15 CENTS. 
 
mSTORl OF CONEY ISLAND. 
 
 DRY GOODS. 
 
 WET GOODS. SHRUNK IN WASHING. 
 
s. 
 
 Bt 
 
 ^t> 
 
 m 
 
 2o 
 
 JL^-Joo 
 
 
 
y 
 
LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 002 079 250 4 
 
 J^^v 
 
 O Electric Light. 
 F Refreshment Saloon. 
 i/j gi C Whispering Gallery. 
 ""■ D Children's Dairy. 
 
 P P Coney Island proper. 
 
 A Atlantic Garden. 
 
 Y Belt Line R. R. Depot. 
 
 C Engeman's Pavillion. 
 
 R Depot R P. & C. L R, R. 
 
 N N Norton & Murray. 
 
 S Steamboat Landing. 
 
 W A Whale. 
 
 L Lobster Pot, 
 
 H A Porpoise. 
 
 B Last Resting Place. 
 
 i: .Eel Pot. 
 
hUSEhLURUUU 
 
 ssa^l^^4o^ io AMVMen 
 
 Mill