presented to the visitor the opposite extreme of repulsiveness. But now all this is changed; one enters the Forest City through a continuous park. Coming from the east, the waves of the beautiful inland sea almost wash the tracks. On the left the steep slope is covered by green grass, shrubbery and trees, the line broken here and there, perhaps, by private grounds no less beautiful, while the United States Marine Hospital crowns the cliff, at Erie street, with its ample and well-kept grounds. Reaching the depot the traveler at once ascends the cliff, and avoids the necessary ugliness of the immense railroad yard, with its gridiron of tracks. Even the river, once so unsightly, presents to view the ceaseless movements of multifarious business, all of which indicate the prosperity and thriving industry of the city.
