Print (PDF) - On this page / på denna sida - On the Hudson, Saturday, October 20
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Not far from Mr. Downing’s villa, on the other side
of the Hudson river, a brick-maker has built himself
a lovely home. This honorable man--for so he seems to
be, and so he really is--has been here two or three
times to present me with flowers and invite me to
his villa. My attention has been called, also, to
a pretty little house, a frame structure with green
veranda and garden, right in this neighborhood. "It
belongs," said Mr. Downing, "to a man who in the
daytime drives cartloads of stone and rubbish for
making the roads." In this the workingman of the New
World has more advantages than he of the Old. He can
here, by the hard labor of his hands, obtain the more
refined pleasures of life, a fine home and the fruits
of education for his family, much more quickly. And
he may obtain these if he will.
At this moment an explosion thunders from the other
side of the Hudson, and I see huge blocks of stone
hurled into the air and fall into the water, which
foams and boils in consequence: it is a rock which is
being blasted to make room for a railway now in the
course of construction along the banks of the river,
where the power of steam on land will compete with
the power of steam on water. To hurl mountains out
of the way, to bore through them and build tunnels,
to move hills into the water as a foundation for
roads in places where
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