ltless attire, which in elegance surpassed
all his rivals, won for him the nickname of "Dandy." He also rendered
himself conspicuous as the first gentleman in New York to wear the long,
straight, and pointed waxed mustache. His two maiden sisters were
inseparable companions and nearly every day could be seen walking on
Broadway. Miss Lydia Kane, one of the wits of my day and of whom I have
already spoken, facetiously called them "number 11"--two straight marks!

In 1845 Burton's Theater was an unfailing source of delight to the
pleasure-loving public. William E. Burton was an Englishman of rare
cultivation, and was the greatest comedian New York had ever known.
Although so gifted, his expression of countenance was one of extreme
gravity. His presentation of Aminadab Sleek in the "Serious Family" has,
in my opinion, never been surpassed. He frequently acted in minor
comedies, but the "Serious Family" was his greatest _role_. Niblo's
Garden on Broadway, near Houston Street, was a source of great delight
in those days to all Gothamites. It was in this theater that the Ravel
family had its remarkable athletic performances. When I recall their
graceful, youthful physiques, I am reminded of Hamlet's philosophical
musings in the graveyard: "Where be your gibes now, your gambols, your
songs, your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a
roar?" P. T. Barnum was a conspicuous figure about this time. His museum
was on Broadway, at the corner of Ann Street, and not far from the City
Hall. He was considered a prince of humbugs and perhaps gloried in his
reputation as such. I distinctly remember the excitement which he
created over a mummified old colored woman who, he asserted, had been a
nurse of Washington, and to whom he gave the name of Joice Heth. She was
undoubtedly a very aged negress, but she still retained full powers of
articulation and was well coached to reply in an intelligent manner to
the numerous inquiries respecting her pretended charge. It is needless
to add that she was only one of Barnum's numerous fakes.

Philip Kearny, a handsome gentleman of a former school, who lived at the
corner of Broadway and Leonard Street, was a lavish entertainer. He was
a widower when I knew him, but his daughter, the wife of Major Alexander
S. Macomb, U.S.A., the son and aide of Major General Alexander Macomb,
Commander-in-Chief of the Army, lived with him. Major Macomb was
conspicuous for his attractive personality