第23部分(第2/3 頁)

　city　its　tidal　restlessness；　native　give　it　solidity　and　continuity；　but　the　settlers　give　it　passion。　And　whether　it　is　a　farmer　arriving　from　Italy　to　set　up　a　small　town　in　Mississippi　to　escape　the　indignity　of　being　observed　by　her　neighbors；　or　a　boy　arriving　from　the　Corn　Belt　with　a　manuscript　in　his　suitcase　and　a　pain　in　his　heart；　it　makes　no　difference：　each　absorbs　New　York　with　the　fresh　eyes　of　an　adventurer；　each　generates　heat　and　light　to　dwarf　the　Consolidated　Edison　pany。

The　muter　is　the　queerest　bird　of　all。 The　suburb　he　inhabits　has　no　essential　vitality　of　its　own　and　is　a　mere　roost　where　he　es　at　day’s　end　to　got　to　sleep。　Except　in　rare　cases；　the　man　who　lives　in　Mamaroneck　or　Little　Neck　or　Teaneck　and　works　in　New　York；　discovers　nothing　much　about　the　city　except　the　time　of　arrival　and　departure　of　trains　and　buses；　and　the　path　to　a　quick　lunch。　He　is　desk…　bound；　and　has　never；　idly　roaming　in　the　gloaming；　stumbled　suddenly　on　Belvedere　Tower　in　the　Park；　seen　the　ramparts　rise　sheer　from　the　water　of　the　pond；　and　the　boys　along　the　shore　fishing　for　minnows；　girls　stretched　out　negligently　on　the　shelves　of　the　rocks；　he　has　never　e　suddenly　on　anything　at　all　in　New　York　as　a　loiterer；　because　he　has　had　no　time　between　trains。　He　has　fished　in　Manhattan’s　wallet　and　dug　out　coins　but　has　never　listened　to　Manhattan’s　breathing；　never　awakened　to　its　morning；　never　dropped　off　to　sleep　in　its　night。　About　400；000　men　and　women　e　charging　onto　the　island　each　weekday　morning；　out　of　the　mouths　of　tubes　and　tunnels。　Not　many　among　them　have　ever　spent　a　drowsy　afternoon　in　the　great　rustling　oaken　silence　of　the　reading　room　of　the　Public　Library；　with　the　book　elevator　（like　an　old　water　wheel）　spewing　out　books　onto　the　tr