In column on column of yellowed paper and quaint f-for-s printing, we read exhortations to employ this or that man, most of them included in the picturesque verse whose author I do not know: _"Plumbers, founders, dyers, tanners, shavers, Sweepers, clerks and criers, jewelers, engravers, Clothiers, drapers, players, cartmen, hatters, nailers, Gaugers, sealers, weighers, carpenters, and sailors!"_ And read the long-winded, yet really beautiful old obituary notices; the simple news of battles and high deeds; the fiery, yet pedantic, political editorials.

Oh, no one knows anything about Father Knickerbocker until he has read the same newspapers that Father Knickerbocker himself read,--when he wasn't writing for them! The Revolution had passed and Greenwich was a real village, and growing with astonishing rapidity, even in that day of lightning development.
In 1807 they started to do New York over, and they kept at it faithfully and successfully until 1811.

Then began the laying out of streets according to numbers and fixed measurements, instead of by picturesque names and erratic cow-path meanderings.

Gouverneur Morris, Simeon de Witt and John Rutherford were appointed by the city to take charge of this task, and, as one writer points out, they did not do it as badly as they might have done, nor as we are inclined to think they did when we try to find our way around lower New York today.

The truth is that Greenwich had grown up, and always has grown up ever since, in an entirely independent and obstinate fashion all its own.