NE'W AND OLD NEW YORK

EVEN down in the densely-built region be¬
tween what used to be Lispenard's Mead¬
ows and what used to be Love Lane—that is to
say, between the present Canal Street an'-! the
present Twenty-first Street — there still may be
found many ancient wooden houses which survive
from the time when all this region was open
country, broken only by a few dwellings scattered
along the central highway and along the half-
dozen minor roads and lanes.

A few of these wooden veterans have been
wheeled around on their timber toes to the lines
of the City Plan, and face boldly upon the exist¬
ing streets—as in the case of the little houses on
the southeast corner of the Sixth Avenue and
Eleventh Street. But, as a rule, land fronting on
any street is too valuable to be encumbered by
such poverty-stricken remnants of an earlier time,
and the wooden buildings are tucked away mod¬
estly in the centres of the blocks — where they
are to be come at only by adventuring into the
twilight depths of tunnel-like alleyways or up
narrow courts. For instance, in the rear of No.
112 Ninth Avenue—on the line of an old country
road whereof the very name, if it ever had one,
is forgotten—there is in use as a dwelling a house