Excerpt from Joseph Zalmonah: A Novel
Miryam stood on the high platform of the Bridge promenade, near the New York side, clapping her hands with childish glee, as she looked at the vast and splendid panorama of town and bay, and the swaying and darting throngs of ships and steamers.
A soft violet haze filled the air, and lavished its enchantment on the mighty ranks of tall buildings, on the tapering forests of masts, and on domes and spires which marked the line of Broadway.
The dull red shaft of the Produce Exchange, seen under the glamour of the hot summer afternoon, was as picturesque as the Golden Tower at Seville. A "tramp" steamship, rusty and wave-battered, came crawling along the silver pathway of the waters, and, touched by the omnipresent glory, was straightway as romantic as an ancient caravel.
Snarling and fuming little tugs bounded over the waves, their hoarse throttles barking not unlike the bulldogs which the sturdy craft resemble. Past the Battery came an "Annex" ark, wheezing majestically, and muttering sharp warnings to the sailboats fluttering near its bow.
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