"For goodness' sake, Anne, where _do_ all these folks come from, and where are they rushing to?"
"Well! If this is your wonderful Fifth avenue, I don't think much of it," declared Polly, a few moments later.
"Why--it's simply great!" exclaimed Eleanor, having a far different view-point of the city.
"Great! Why, just look how narrow the street is? Main street, in Oak Creek, is twice as wide. And Denver has nicer streets than this famous alley you hear so much about," scorned Polly.
Again her companions laughed merrily. At this moment a traffic policeman sounded a shrill whistle. Instantly the mass of pedestrians, backed up on the curbs, started to cross. Or to use Polly's own description in the letter she wrote home that night: "Really, dearies, they catapulted back and forth like rockets! We had to rush with them, or be trampled upon. It is just awful!
"And such freaks, mother! Nolla says it is style. Well, all I can say is, spare me from such outrageous styles! Most every woman and girl I met had faces covered thick with layers of white chalk, with a daub of red on each cheek, and lips as scarlet as a clown's. In fact, I had to stand stock-still and look at one queer creature--she looked exactly as if she was made up for a circus. Anne and Nolla laugh at me, all the time. But I don't care, so! These horrid painted things are not _nice_!
"If I hadn't set my heart on being an interior decorator, I'd take up lecturing, and teach these crazy New Yorkers how to look and enjoy a simple life."
From the above account you can see how one day's experience in New York impressed the girl of the Mountain Ranges in the West.
Polly, accustomed as she was to the overstocked store in Oak Creek, where shelves were stacked high with all sorts of merchandise, opened her eyes as Anne led her into a quiet parlor-like room that opened directly from Fifth avenue. She stared around for a glimpse of the gowns she expected to see; but nothing like one was to be seen. The dignified lady who met Anne, and a few other well-dressed women who conversed in low tones with each other, did not look like Polly's idea of shop-girls.
Anne's lady conducted them to a lift, and they shot up two stories. Again they came out into a lovely lounging-room, but still no sign of dresses. The lady pushed a button, and another woman hurried in.