Imported Americans: The Story of the Experiences of a Disguised American and His Wife Studying the Immigration QuestionBrandenburg, Broughton
History
Imported Americans: The Story of the Experiences of a Disguised American and His Wife Studying the Immigration Question
Brandenburg, Broughton
Italy -- Emigration and immigration; United States -- Emigration and immigration
A. Immigrants landed from barges enter by these stairs.
B. Surgeon examines health tickets.
C. Surgeon examines head and body.
D. Surgeon examines eyes. Suspects go to left for further examination.
E. Female inspector looking for prostitutes.
F. Group enters and sits in pen corresponding to ticket letter or
number.
G. Inspector examines on twenty-two questions.
H. Into special inquiry court.
I. Stamping railroad ticket orders.
J. Money exchange and telegraph office.
K. To railroad pen.
L. To New York pen.
M. To the ferry and New York.
N. Telegraph office.
CHAPTER XIX
THE DISPERSION
When I went to get Giuseppe Rota, I found the officials at the immigrant
home were very loath to let him go. He was seated at one of the long
tables of the big barracks-like house, with forty other men, women, and
children, and was enjoying a hearty meal, notwithstanding his anxiety as
to his ultimate fate. Since he had got into their hands the management
was chary of relinquishing him to me, even though I had committed him,
and poor Giuseppe protested volubly that I had been more than a father
to him, and that his only hope of reaching his uncle was through me.
After a tiresome explanation I signed a receipt for him and gave
references for myself, which were promptly looked up, and then we were
allowed to depart.
The next task was to find Ferruchio Vazzana, a Gualtieri man who at that
time had a small store on East Fifteenth Street near Second Avenue, and
to whom Nunzio Giunta was “raccomended”; then Tommaso Figaro, a painter
from Gualtieri, who would be sponsor for Nicola Curro. His address was
520 East Fourteenth Street. Nicola and Nunzio went with Antonio and me,
and we had barely entered the Italian district of that part of the city
when two or three men from different directions came flying toward us,
throwing their arms about Nunzio, Nicola, and Antonio. They were all
Gualtieri people, and in a few minutes I found myself outside of an
excited throng centred about the newcomers and talking at a rate that
left me entirely in the dark as to what was being said. When they did
remember me, the boys found great difficulty in explaining how I, an
“American proper,” came to be so closely associated with them, and I
noticed a marked cooling of the enthusiasm among the people about. They
were extremely suspicious of me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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