on a clear still summer evening, you may hear, from the Battery of
New York, the obstreperous peals of broad-mouthed laughter of the
Dutch negroes at Communipaw, who, like most other negroes, are
famous for their risible powers. This is peculiarly the case on Sun-
day evenings, when, it is remarked by an ingenious and observant
philosopher, who has made great discoveries in the neighborhood of
this city, that they always laugh loudest--which he attributes to the
circumstance of their having their holiday clothes on.
These negroes, in fact, like the monks in the dark ages, engross all
the knowledge of the place, and being infinitely more adventurous
and more knowing than their masters, carry on all the foreign trade;
making frequent voyages to town in canoes loaded with oysters, but
termilk, and cabbages. They are great astrologers, predicting the
different changes of weather almost as accurately as an almanac--
they are moreover exquisite performers on three-stringed fiddles; in
whistling they almost boast the far-famed powers of Orpheus's lyre,
for not a horse or an ox in the place, when at the plow or before
the wagon, will budge a foot until he hears the well-known whistle
of his black driver and companion.--And from their amazing skill at
casting up accounts upon their fingers, they are regarded with as
much veneration as were the disciples of Pythagoras of yore, when
initiated into the sacred quaternary of numbers.

As to the honest burghers of Communipaw, like wise men and
sound philosophers, they never look beyond their pipes, nor trouble
their heads about any affairs out of their immediate neighborhood;
so that they live in profound and enviable ignorance of all the
troubles, anxieties, and revolutions of this distracted planet. I am
even told that many among them do verily believe that Holland, of
which they have heard so much from tradition, is situated somewhere
on Long Island--that Spiking Devil and the Narrows are the two ends
of the world--that the country is still under the dominion of their
High Mightinesses, and that the city of New York still goes by the
name of Nieuw Amsterdam. They meet every Saturday afternoon
at the only tavern in the place, which bears as a sign, a square-headed
likeness of the Prince of Orange, where they smoke a silent pipe, by
way of promoting social conviviality, and invariably drink a mug of
cider to the success of Admiral Van Tromp, who they imagine is still
sweeping the British channel, with a broom at his masthead.

Communipaw, in short, is one of the numerous little villages in the
vicinity of this most beautiful of cities, which are so many strong-
holds and fastnesses, whither the primitive manners of our Dutch
forefathers have retreated, and where they are cherished with devout
and scrupulous strictness. The dress of the original settlers is
handed down inviolate from father to son--the identical broad-brim-
med hat, broad skirted coat, and broad-bottomed breeches continue
from generation to generation; and several gigantic knee-buckles of
massive silver are still in wear, that made gallant display in the days

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