et is a brownstone
dwelling with a luxuriantly blooming window garden, where James Lane
Allen lives when he is in town and revises his writings. A few steps
into the next thoroughfare the Little Church Around the Corner
nestles in a populous district, and in the next block, just beyond the
Woman's Hotel, Mrs. Burton Harrison has written many of her books. Two
blocks away, in the _Life_ building, John A. Mitchell, founder of the
paper, spends several working hours of each day.

Going farther up-town in Park Avenue just beyond Thirty-sixth Street
is a substantial building where Dr. Josiah Gilbert Holland wrote and
where he died. In nearby Thirty-seventh Street hover memories of Parke
Godwin, who married the daughter of William Cullen Bryant, and whose
business and literary interests were closely entwined with those of
his father-in-law. A few steps westward is the solemnly quiet Brick
Presbyterian Church, where Dr. Henry van Dyke preached before he was
called to Princeton. Turning into Forty-sixth Street, note a house
distinguished from its neighbors by a doorway of wrought-iron, where
John A. Mitchell did much of the writing of _Amos Judd_.

[Illustration: The Beekman Mansion near 52nd St. [Transcriber's
Note: should be 51st St.] East River]

Across town, where Fifty-first Street touches the East River, is a
street so short and so out-of-the-way that few New Yorkers have ever
heard of it. It is called Beekman Place, and in it survives the memory
of the old Beekman house which stood near by, and which in the days of
the Revolution was used as a British headquarters. It was in the
Beekman house that Nathan Hale rested his last night on earth. Here in
this quiet spot Henry Harland lived in the eighties, when he was
employed in the Register's Office and got up at two o'clock many and
many a morning to write (under the name of Sidney Luska) some of his
earlier books. The windows of his home looked out upon a beautiful and
unusual city scene. Any one going now to where Fifty-first Street ends
at an embankment high above the river may see it just as he saw it
then--see the waves splashing on a rocky shore, with neither docks nor
wharves nor factories to interfere; see a broad river; see a green
island with stone turreted towers, and in the distance, forming a
background, the irregular sky-line of the Brooklyn borough shore.

Farther up-town to Central Park, and there on the south side is the
mammoth apartment house close to