Diminutive Pearl

For comparison to the previous post, I offer this little mother of pearl button, which was found on the Bowery. It had been there a while - about a hundred years I'd say - judging by the fact that it was sitting in a pile of dirt and gunk dug up for some median construction. Every time they dig in this city, as in any city, they're digging through history. And this button popped up.

I'm pretty certain it was part of a petticoat worn by an hourly harlot sometime shortly after the end of the Civil War, when that neighborhood was loaded with brothels. You can tell by looking at it that the button had other ideas for itself; figured it was destined for an outer garment, not underwear. So it hooked onto the side of the laundry pail and popped off. Too bad it then bounced off of the floor, into the air, and then right down between the floor boards. Only to resurface 100 years later in a pile of yellowish brown clay-like mud.

And, no, we still don't have time machines or jet-packs.