WORRIES OF A WINTER WALK
The other winter, as I was taking a morning walk down to the East River, I came upon a bit of our motley life, a fact of our piebald civilization, which has perplexed me from time to time, ever since, and which I wish now to leave with the reader, for his or her more thoughtful consideration.
I.
The morning was extremely cold. It professed to be sunny, and there was really some sort of hard glitter in the air, which,...
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