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Show -: . .... ... .. ....... -· . ... ...... .. . BIBBS'S was a gloomy little heaven up one Right and Bibbs, a · bald and cranky little god of fiddles, with whiskers half as long as himself and white as snow. His windows overlooked the Bowery, and their dusty panes ha§tened the twilight and delayed the dawn, robbing the day of an hour at each end. The elevated trains went rushing by, but somehow there was silence in this little shop; or was it but the sign of silence that one saw on every side ?-the hushed string, the whisper-haunted galleries of pine & maple, the uncommunicative Bibbs. 1 |
