Lights and Shadows of New York Life or, the Sights and Sensations of the Great City (part 4 of 4)

Lights and Shadows of New York Life or, the Sights and Sensations of the Great City (part 4 of 4)

They call at the "Agency," which is usually in one of the upper stories of a Nassau street building. The agent, a flashy young man, personates his clerk on such occasions. He informs the applicant that the proprietor is not in, but will be soon, and that in order to secure the very first chance of employment, he must register his name and make a deposit of two dollars. He overcomes the objections of the applicant by stating that the office is overrun with persons needing assistants, and that there are a dozen openings ready for the applicant. The proprietor, however, manages all these things himself. He is sure to be in in the afternoon. The name is registered, the money is paid, but the proprietor is never to be found. The "clerk," if pressed for the return of the money, utterly denies the whole transaction, destroys the register, if necessary, and as there is no evidence to convict him, he escapes the punishment of his crime.

Another "circular swindle" is practised as follows: Circulars are sent to persons in other parts of the Union, offering one hundred dollars in perfect counterfeits of United States Treasury notes and fractional currency for five dollars. One of the most ingenious of these circulars, all of which are lithographed, reads as follows:

"When Congress authorized the present issue of greenbacks, the Treasury Department executed plates of enormous cost and wonderful workmanship, from which the whole amount of currency authorized by Congress was to be printed, and it was ordered at the time, that, as soon as the whole amount had been printed, the plates, some one hundred in number, should be taken from the Treasury Department, conveyed to the Navy Yard, and melted. Now, it so happened that the plates from which the one, two, and five dollar bills had been printed, were not destroyed. How it was brought about, we, as a matter of prudence, do not state. It is enough to know that the plates are still preserved uninjured, and we trust their whereabouts will never be known, except to us."

Formerly this business was carried on through the Post-office, the rascals sending their victims the photographic cards of the currency of the United States, which sell on the streets for a penny or two apiece. The Government, however, suddenly put a stop to this by seizing the letters addressed to the swindlers, and returning them, with the money enclosed, to the writers. Now the knaves are careful to caution their correspondents to send money by express, and to prepay the charges. Very many of these circulars are successful. The money is sent in advance, or the "queer" is shipped C.O.D. In the latter case, the box is delivered on payment of the charges, and the money thus secured to the swindler, as it is the plain duty of the express company to forward it to the sender of the C.O.D. The box, upon being opened by the victim, is found to contain old paper, or bits of iron or stone.

As a matter of course, only dishonest men will answer these circulars, or consent to buy money known to be counterfeit. The world is full of such, however, and large sums are annually received by the New York swindlers in answer to their circulars. The victim, in the majority of instances, is afraid to expose the trick. The police of the city are fully informed as to the names, appearance, and residence, of each of these swindlers, but are powerless to interfere with them. They do not issue counterfeit money, and are not, therefore, liable to the charge of counterfeiting. They screen themselves from the charge of obtaining money under false pretences by never transacting their business in person. Everything is done by letter, and even the C.O.D. part of the business is managed in such a way as to make identification impossible.

The country newspapers are filled with advertisements of cheap sewing machines, which range in price from one to ten dollars. The men who insert these advertisements are among the most unprincipled swindlers in New York. Sometimes they pocket the money and send nothing in return, but when they do send a "machine" it is worthless. The actual cost of it never exceeds twenty-five cents. One scoundrel, some time ago, sent a lady who had remitted him three dollars a large needle, and wrote that it was "the best sewing machine in the world."

Another swindler advertises a music box for $2.50, "warranted to play six airs." In return for the money, he sends a child's harmonicon, the retail price of which is fifty cents.

Another advertises a "Pocket Time-keeper," at one dollar. It is usually a wretched pasteboard, tin or brass imitation of a sun dial. Sometimes it is a child's toy watch.

The day of mock auctions has gone by, but there are still one or two of these establishments lingering in the city. These are managed in various ways.

[Picture: A STRANGER'S EXIT FROM A "CHEAP JOHN SHOP".]

At some of these establishments a lot of pencil cases, watches, or other goods, is offered for sale. The lot generally contains a dozen or a gross of articles. Bids are started by the "decoys" of the proprietor, who are scattered through the crowd, and strangers are thus induced to make offers for them. Each man supposes he is bidding for a single lot, and is greatly astonished to find the whole lot knocked down to him. He is told he must take the entire lot, that his bid was for all. Some are weak enough to comply with the demand, but others resist it.

A well-known Broadway auctioneer was brought before the Mayor, some time ago, on the following complaint. A gentleman, who appeared against the auctioneer, stated that he had attended his last sale. The auctioneer put up a box containing twelve silver pencil-cases, and the gentleman, supposing from his manner and language, that he was selling them fairly, bid two dollars and fifty cents for the lot. To his surprise, he was told that he had bid two dollars and fifty cents for each pencil-case, and that he must pay thirty dollars for the whole lot. The money had been paid and the auctioneer refused to return it, insisting that the gentleman should take one pencil-case or nothing. The Mayor compelled the scamp to refund the money, and warned him that he would revoke his licence if a similar complaint were again made against him.

In some of these establishments, a stranger who attempts to remonstrate against the swindle fares badly. He is hustled out by the confederates of the proprietor, and if he attempts to defend himself, is handed over to the police on a charge of attempting to create a disturbance.

Other establishments sell watches and cheap jewelry. A really good article is put up, and passed around through the crowd as a sample. It draws bids rapidly, and is knocked down to the highest bidder. It has by this time been handed back to the auctioneer, and when the purchaser demands it, he is given some worthless article, which the dealer and his assistants swear was the one exhibited to the crowd. Remonstrances are useless. The bogus article must be taken or the money lost, unless the victim calls in the police. The city authorities have recently stationed a policeman at the door of one of these establishments, to warn strangers of its true character.

The pocket-book dropping game is of common occurrence, but is rarely practised on residents of the city. A man suddenly darts from a crowd on the street and appears to pick up something at the feet of his intended victim. This, of course, attracts the attention of the latter. The former displays a well-filled pocket-book, and asks the stranger if he dropped it, as it was found at his feet. He is answered in the negative.

[Picture: THE POCKET-BOOK GAME.]

"Strange," remarks the swindler, "it was lying right at your feet, and I felt sure it was yours. However, it is a rich prize."

He then inquires if the stranger intends staying in town. If answered affirmatively, he says:

"Then I will turn over the pocket-book to you. You can advertise it. Give me ten dollars and take the wallet. You can advertise it, or the owner will no doubt advertise it himself. Then you can claim the reward, which will certainly not be less than fifty dollars."

The other party reasons that he is sure of his money, with the wallet in his possession, and he sometimes dishonestly purposes appropriating the entire contents to his own use. He pays the ten dollars to the finder of the book, who hurries off, saying that he has just time to catch the train by which he intends leaving the city. Upon examining the wallet, the victim finds that its contents consist of a wad of paper wrapped in a wretched counterfeit note. He has given his ten dollars for a collection of worthless paper.

It would require a volume to describe all the swindles and rogueries carried on in this city. The instances we have presented will be sufficient to give the reader an insight into the subject, and to warn him against the wiles of the sharpers which assail him even in his own home.

LXX. ROBERT BONNER.

The circulation of the New York Ledger is over 300,000 copies, and its readers cannot be far short of one million of people. To all these the name of ROBERT BONNER is as familiar as that of his paper.

He was born in the north of Ireland, near Londonderry, in 1824. He came to this country when a mere child, and was brought up in the State of Connecticut, where he received a good common school education. He was apprenticed to the printer's trade at an early age, and began his apprenticeship in the office of the Hartford Courant. He came to New York at the age of twenty, and obtained employment in the office of a political journal, which soon suspended publication. He then secured a position in the office of the Evening Mirror, from which he passed to the post of foreman in the office of a small, struggling, commercial paper, called the Merchants' Ledger. In a year or two after forming this connection, he purchased the Ledger, and determined to change both its character and form, and convert it into a literary journal. He had the good sense to perceive that there was a great need of a cheap literary journal, suited to the comprehension and tastes of the masses, who cared nothing for the higher class periodicals. He proceeded very cautiously, however, and it was not until some time after that he made the Ledger entirely a literary paper, and issued it in its present form. He induced Fanny Fern, who was then in the flush of the reputation gained for her by her "Ruth Hall," to write him a story, ten columns long, and paid her one thousand dollars in cash for it. He double-leaded the story, and made it twenty columns in length, and advertised in nearly every newspaper of prominence in the country that he was publishing a story for which he had paid one hundred dollars per column. His mode of advertising was entirely new, and was sneered at at the time as a "sensational." It accomplished its object, however. It attracted the attention of the readers of the papers, and they bought the Ledger "to see what it was." They liked the paper, and since then there has been no abatement in the demand for it. The venture was entirely successful. Mr. Bonner's energy and genius, and Fanny Fern's popularity, placed the Ledger on a substantial footing from the start, and out of the profits of the story for which he had paid such an unusually large price, Mr. Bonner purchased a handsome city residence.

He did not content himself with Fanny Fern, though she became a regular contributor to his paper. He secured the services of Edward Everett, offering him ten thousand dollars for a series of papers, the money to be devoted to the purchase of Mount Vernon, an object very dear to the heart of the great orator. Mr. Bonner not only secured a valuable contributor, but won a warm personal friend in Mr. Everett. The latter continued his connection with the Ledger until the close of his life. Mr. Bonner also secured as regular contributors to his paper George Bancroft, the historian, James Parton (Fanny Fern's husband), Henry Ward Beecher, and many of the leading men of the country, and a number of brilliant and popular female writers.

The Ledger is steadily growing in the public favor. From the profits of his paper, Mr. Bonner has erected a splendid marble publishing house, at the corner of William and Spruce streets, in New York, from which the Ledger is now issued. It is one of the most complete establishments in the country, and is fitted up with every convenience necessary to the performance of the work upon the paper in the most complete and expeditious manner.

Mr. Bonner is married, and has a family. He owns a country seat in Westchester county, to which he repairs in the summer. His city residence is on the south side of Fifty-sixth street, a few doors west of the Fifth avenue. It is a handsome brown stone mansion. In the rear of it, on Fifty-fifth street, is his stable, a large and tasteful edifice of brick. It is the most perfect establishment of its kind in the country. Everything is at hand that is necessary for the comfort and care of the horses, and the men in charge of the place are thoroughly skilled in their business. Mr. Bonner owns seven of the finest horses in the world. First on the list is "Dexter," the fastest horse "on the planet." He has made his mile in 2.17.25 in harness, and 2.18 under the saddle. "Lantern," a splendid bay, 15.5 hands high, has made his mile in 2.20. "Pocahontas" has made her mile in 2.23, and "Peerless," a fine gray mare, has followed close on to her in 2.23.25. The former is said to be the most perfectly formed horse in the world. "Lady Palmer" has made 2 miles, with a 350 pound wagon and driver, in 4.59, while her companion, "Flatbush Mare," has made a 2 mile heat to a road wagon in 5.01.25. The "Auburn Horse," a large sorrel, 16.5 hands high, with four white feet and a white face, was declared by Hiram Woodruff to be the fastest horse he ever drove. These horses cost their owner over two hundred thousand dollars, and he would not part with them for double that sum. He will not race them, though almost every inducement has been offered him to do so, as he is opposed to racing for money. He bought them for his own enjoyment, and drives them himself.

[Picture: ROBERT BONNER.]

Mr. Bonner is now very wealthy. He lives simply, however, and detests and shuns personal notoriety or ostentation. He has the reputation of being a warm-hearted, generous man, and has many friends. He is short, thick-set, and solidly made. His hair is sandy, his complexion florid, his forehead large and thoughtful, his eye bright and pleasant, and his manner frank, genial, and winning.

LXXI. PUBLIC BUILDINGS.

The Public Buildings of New York are not numerous. Some of them are handsome, and others are models of ugliness. We shall mention here only those which are not described elsewhere in this volume.

The most prominent is the City Hall, which is located in the City Hall Park. It faces the south, and the ground line is perpendicular to Broadway. It is a handsome edifice, and is surmounted by the best clock tower in the Union, above which is a marble image of Justice. The front and ends of the City Hall are constructed of white marble, but the rear face is of brown stone. The building was erected between the years 1803 and 1810, and the city fathers, sagely premising that New York would never extend above the Park, decided to save the difference between marble and brown stone at this side, "as this portion would face the country." The building contains the offices of the Mayor and city officials. Some of its rooms are very handsome, and are elegantly decorated.

The clock tower and the upper portions of the building were set on fire by the pyrotechnical display in honor of the Atlantic Telegraph of 1859. They were rebuilt soon afterwards, in much better style.

"Previous to the completion of the new cupola, our city fathers contracted with Messrs. Sperry & Co., the celebrated tower-clock makers of Broadway, to build a clock for it, at a cost not exceeding four thousand dollars, that our citizens might place the utmost reliance upon, as a time-keeper of unvarying correctness. During the month of April the clock was completed, and the busy thousands who were daily wont to look up to the silent monitor, above which the figure of Justice was enthroned, hailed its appearance with the utmost satisfaction. It is undoubtedly the finest specimen of a tower-clock on this side of the Atlantic, and, as an accurate time-keeper, competent judges pronounce it to be unsurpassed in the world. The main wheels are thirty inches in diameter, the escapement is jewelled, and the pendulum, which is in itself a curiosity, is over fourteen feet in length. It is a curious fact that the pendulum bob weighs over three hundred pounds; but so finely finished is every wheel, pinion, and pivot in the clock, and so little power is required to drive them, that a weight of only one hundred pounds is all that is necessary to keep this ponderous mass of metal vibrating, and turn four pairs of hands on the dials of the cupola. The clock does not stand, as many suppose, directly behind the dials, but in the story below, and a perpendicular iron rod, twenty-five feet in length, connects it with the dial-works above."

[Picture: THE CITY HALL.]

To the east of the City Hall, and within the limits of the Park, is the Hall of Records, a stone building, covered with stucco. It was erected in 1757, as a city prison. It is now occupied by the Registrar of the city and his clerks.

In the rear of the City Hall, and fronting on Chambers street, is the New County Court House, which, when completed, will be one of the finest edifices in the New World. It was begun more than eight years ago, and is constructed of "East Chester and Massachusetts white marble, with iron beams and supports, iron staircases, outside iron doors, solid black-walnut doors (on the inside), and marble tiling on every hall-floor of the building, laid upon iron beams, concreted over, and bricked up. With a basis of concrete, Georgia-pine, over yellow-pine, is used for the flooring of the apartments. The iron supports and beams are of immense strength--some of the girders crossing the rooms weighing over fifty thousand pounds. The pervading order of architecture is Corinthian, but, although excellent, the building cannot be said to be purely Corinthian. An additional depth of, say, thirty feet, would have prevented a cramping of the windows on the sides, which now necessarily exists, and have added power and comprehension to the structure as an entirety; but the general effect is grand and striking in the extreme. The building is two hundred and fifty feet long, and one hundred and fifty feet wide. From the base-course to the top of the pediment the height is ninety-seven feet, and to the top of the dome, not yet erected, two hundred and twenty-five feet. From the sidewalk to the top of the pediment measures eighty-two feet; to the top of the dome two hundred and ten feet. When completed, the building will be surmounted by a large dome, giving a general resemblance to the main portion of the Capitol at Washington. The dome, viewed from the rear, appears something heavy and cumbrous for the general character of the structure which it crowns; but a front view, from Chambers street, when the eye, in its upward sweep, takes in the broad flight of steps, the grand columns, and the general robustness of the main entrance, dissipates this idea, and attaches grace and integrity to the whole. One of the most novel features of the dome will be the arrangement of the tower, crowning its apex, into a light-house, which, from its extreme power and height, it is supposed, will furnish guidance to vessels as far out at sea as that afforded by any beacon on the neighboring coast. This is the suggestion of the architect, Mr. Kellum, but, whether or not it will be carried out in the execution of the design, Mr. Tucker, the superintendent of the work, is unable to say. The interior of the edifice is equally elaborate and complete, and several of the apartments are now occupied by the County Clerk, the Supreme Court, and as other offices. The portico and stoop, now being completed, on Chambers street, will, it is said, be the finest piece of work of the kind in America."

It was this building which furnished the Ring with their favorite pretext for stealing the public money. The manner in which this was done has been described in another chapter.

The Bible House is a massive structure of red brick, with brown stone trimmings, and covers the block bounded by Third and Fourth avenues and Eighth and Ninth streets. It covers three-quarters of an acre, its four fronts measuring a total of 710 feet. It was completed in 1853, at a cost, including the ground, of $303,000, and is to-day worth nearly double that sum. It contains fifty stores and offices, which yield an aggregate annual rent of nearly $40,000. These rooms are occupied chiefly by benevolent and charitable societies, so that the Bible House has become the great centre from which radiate the principal labors of charity and benevolence in the City and State.

The Bible House is owned by, and forms the headquarters of the American Bible Society. The Bibles of this Society are printed here, every portion of their publication being carried on under this vast roof. The receipts of the Society since its organization in 1816 have amounted to nearly $6,000,000. Thousands of copies are annually printed and distributed from here. The entire Union has been canvassed three times by the agents of the Society, and hundreds of thousands of destitute families have been furnished each with a copy of the Blessed Book. The Bible has been printed here in twenty-nine different languages, and parts of it have been issued in other languages.

About 625 persons find employment in this gigantic establishment. Of these about three hundred are girls, and twenty or thirty boys. The girls feed the presses, sew the books, apply gold-leaf to the covers ready for tooling, etc. About a dozen little girls are employed in the press-room in laying the sheets, of the best description of Bibles, between glazed boards, and so preparing them for being placed in the hydraulic presses. Every day there are six thousand Bibles printed in this establishment, and three hundred and fifty turned out of hand completely bound and finished.

[Picture: TAMMANY HALL.]

Tammany Hall, in East Fourteenth street, between Irving Place and Third avenue, is a handsome edifice of red brick, with white marble trimmings. It contains several fine halls, and a number of committee rooms. The main hall is one of the handsomest in the city, and was formerly used as a theatre. It was in this hall that the National Democratic Convention of 1868 was held. The building is the property of the "Tammany Society." This Society was organized in 1789 as a benevolent association, but subsequently became a political organization and the ruling power in the Democratic politics of the City and State.

[Picture: NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN.]

The Academy of Design is located at the northwest corner of Fourth avenue and Twenty-third street. It is one of the most beautiful edifices in the city. It is built in the pure Gothic style of the thirteenth century, and the external walls are composed of variegated marble. It has an air of lightness and elegance, that at once elicit the admiration of the gazer. The interior is finished with white pine, ash, mahogany, oak, and black walnut in their natural colors; no paint being used in the building. Schools of art, a library, reading room, lecture room, and the necessary rooms for the business of the institution, occupy the first and second stories. The third floor is devoted to the gallery of paintings and the sculpture room. At certain seasons of the year exhibitions of paintings and statuary are held here. None but works of living artists are exhibited.

[Picture: STEINWAY AND SONS' PIANO FACTORY.]

One of the most imposing buildings in the city is the new Grand Central Depot, on Forty-second street and Fourth avenue. It is constructed of red brick, with iron trimmings painted white, in imitation of marble. The south front is adorned with three and the west front with two massive pavilions. The central pavilion of each front contains an illuminated clock. The entire building is 696 feet long and 240 feet wide. The space for the accommodation of the trains is 610 feet long and 200 feet wide. The remainder of the edifice is devoted to the offices of the various railways using it. Waiting-rooms, baggage-rooms, etc. The car-shed is covered with an immense circular roof of iron and glass. The remainder of the building is of brick and iron. The principal front is on Forty-second street. This portion is to be occupied by the offices and waiting-rooms of the New York and New Haven and the Shore Line railways. The southern portion of the west front is occupied by the offices and waiting-rooms of the New York, Harlem, and Albany Railway, and the remainder of this front by the offices and waiting-rooms of the Hudson River and New York Central railways. These roads are the only lines which enter the city, and they are here provided with a common terminus in the very heart of the metropolis. The waiting-rooms and offices are finished in hard wood, are handsomely frescoed, and are supplied with every convenience. The height of the roof of the main body of the depot is 100 feet from the ground; the apex of the central pavilion on Forty-second street is 160 feet from the ground.

The car-house constitutes the main body of the depot. It is lighted from the roof by day, and at night large reflectors, lighted by an electrical apparatus, illuminate the vast interior. The platforms between the tracks are composed of stone blocks. Each road has a particular portion assigned to it, and there is no confusion in any of the arrangements. The roof is supported by thirty-one handsome iron trusses, each weighing forty tons, and extending in an unbroken arch over the entire enclosure. The glass plates in the roof measure 80,000 feet. The interior of the car-house is painted in light colors, which harmonize well with the light which falls through the crystal roof.

About eighty trains enter and depart from this depot every day. The running of these is regulated by the depot-master, who occupies an elevated position at the north end of the car-house, from which he can see the track for several miles. A system of automatic signals governs the running of the trains through the city.

The building was projected by Commodore Vanderbilt. Ground was broken for it on the 15th of November, 1869, and it was ready for occupancy on the 9th of October, 1871.

LXXII. PATENT DIVORCES.

It may not be generally known in other parts of the country, but it is very well understood in the city, that New York is the headquarters of a powerful Ring of corrupt and unscrupulous lawyers, whose business is to violate the law of the land, and procure by fraud divorces which will not be granted by any court after a fair and full hearing of the case. It may be asserted at the outset, that those who are fairly and justly entitled to such a separation, never seek it through the Divorce Ring.

In any issue of certain city newspapers, you will see such advertisements as the following:

ABSOLUTE DIVORCES LEGALLY OBTAINED, in New York, and States, where desertion, drunkenness, etc., etc., are sufficient cause. No publicity; no charge until divorce obtained; advice free. M--- B---, attorney, 56 --- street.

The all-sufficient cause with these lawyers is the desire for a separation on the part of the husband or wife, and they never trouble themselves with questions of law or morality. The law of New York allows a divorce with the right to marry again, upon one ground only--that of adultery.

"The lawyers of the Divorce Ring are the pariahs of their profession--men who have been debarred in other States (sometimes in other countries) for detected malpractice; men who began life fairly, but sank into ignominy through dissipation, political failure, or natural vicious tendencies; men, even, who never opened a law-book before entering upon their present avocation, but gleaned a practical knowledge of the legal alternative of 'wedded woe' by a course of training in the private detective's trade. These latter worthies often hire the use of practising lawyers' names. Occasionally they hire the said lawyers themselves to go through the mummeries of the courts for them; and we could name one of our most eloquent and respectable criminal pleaders who, on a certain occasion at least, permitted himself to be nominally associated with one of the boldest operators of the Ring.

"The dens of the divorcers are situated chiefly on the thoroughfares most affected by lawyers of the highest caste, though even Broadway is not wholly exempt from them; and Wall street, Pine street, and especially Nassau street, contain a goodly number each. Without any ostentatious display of signs or identifications, they are generally furnished in the common law-office style, with substantial desks and chairs, shelves of law-books, and usually a shady private apartment for consultations. Sometimes the name upon the 'directory' of the building and name over the 'office' itself will be spelled differently, though conveying the same sound; as though the proprietor thereof might have occasional use for a confusion of personalities. Along the stairs and hallways leading to these dens, at almost any hour of the day, from 10 A.M. to 3 P.M., may be met women in flashy finery and men with hats drawn down over their eyes--all manifestly gravitating, with more or less shamefacedness, towards the places in question. They may be dissolute actresses, seeking a spurious appearance of law to end an old alliance and prepare for a new one. They may be the frivolous, extravagant, reckless wives of poor clerks or hard-working mechanics, infatuatedly following out the first consequences of a matinee at the theatre and a 'Personal' in the Herald. They may be the worthless husbands of unsuspecting, faithful wives, who, by sickness, or some other unwitting provocation, have turned the unstable husbandly mind to thoughts of connubial pastures new and the advertising divorcers. They may be the 'lovers' of married women, who come to engage fabricated testimony and surreptitious unmarriage for the frail creatures whose virtue is still too cowardly to dare the more honest sin. They are not the wronged partners of marriage, who, by the mysterious chastising providence of outraged hearths and homes, are compelled, in bitterest agony of soul, to invoke justice of the law for the honor based upon right and religion.

"The manufacture of 'a case' by the contrabandists of divorce is often such a marvel of unscrupulous audacity, that its very lawlessness constitutes in itself a kind of legal security. So wholly does it ignore all the conventionalities of mere legal evasion, as to virtually lapse into a barbarism, knowing neither law nor civilization. A young woman in flaunting jockey hat, extravagant 'chignon,' and gaudy dress, flirts into the den, and turns a bold, half-defiant face upon the rakish masculine figure at the principal desk. The figure looks up, a glance between the two tells the story, and the woman is invited to step into the consulting-room (if there be one), and give her husband's name and offence. A divorce will cost her say twenty-five, or fifty, or seventy-five dollars--in fact, whatever sum she can afford to pay for such a trifle. She can have it obtained for her in New York, or at the West, just as her husband's likelihood to pry into things, or her own taste in the matter, may render advisable. Not a word of the case can possibly get into the papers in either locality. She can charge 'intemperance,' or 'desertion,' or 'failure to support,' or whatever else she chooses; but, perhaps, it would be better to make it adultery, as that can be just as easily proved, and 'holds good in any State.' This point being decided, the young woman can go home, and there keep her luckless wretch of a husband properly in the dark until her 'decree' is ready for her. If the applicant is a man, the work is all the easier; for then even less art will be required to keep the unconscious 'party of the second part' in ignorance of the proceedings. The case is now quietly put on record in the proper court (if the 'suit' is to be 'tried' in New York), and a 'summons' prepared for service upon the 'defendant.' To serve this summons, any idle boy is called in from the street, and directed to take the paper to defendant's residence or place of business, and there serve it upon him. Away goes the boy, willing enough to earn fifty cents by this easy task, and is met upon the stoop of the residence, or before the door of the place of business, by a confederate of the divorce-lawyer, who sharply asks what he wants. 'I want to see Mr. ---,' says the boy. 'I am Mr. ---,' returns the confederate, who is thereupon served with the summons. Back hurries the boy to the law-office, signs an affidavit that he has served the paper upon defendant in person, is paid for the job, and goes about his business. The time selected for the manoeuvre is, of course, adapted to what the 'plaintiff' has revealed of her husband's hours for home or for business; and, after the improvised server of the 'summons' has once sworn to his affidavit and disappeared, there is no such thing as ever finding him again! A 'copy of the complaint' is 'served' in the same way; or, the 'summons' is published once a week for a month in the smallest type of the smallest obscure weekly paper to be found. This latter device, however, is adopted only when the plaintiff (having some moral scruples about too much perjury at once) charges 'desertion,' and desires to appear quite ignorant of unnatural defendant's present place of abode. If, for any particular reason, the party seeking a divorce prefers a Western decree, the 'lawyer,' or a clerk of his, starts at once for Indiana, or some quiet county of Illinois; and, after hiring a room in some tavern or farm-house in the name of his client (to establish the requisite fact of residence!), gives the case into the hands of a local attorney with whom he has a business partnership. This Western branch of the trade has reached such licence that, not long ago, a notorious practitioner of the Ring actually issued an advertisement in a paper of New York, to the effect that he had just returned to this city from the West with a fresh stock of blank divorces! The wording was not literally thus, but such was its obvious and only signification. Whether the 'trial' is to take place in New York or Indiana, however, there is but one system commonly adopted in offering proof of the truth of the complaint upon which a divorce is demanded. Plaintiff's villainous attorney, after waiting a due length of time for some response from the defendant in the case(!), asks of the Court, as privately as possible, the appointment of a referee.

"His Honor the Court, upon learning that 'defendant' does not oppose (of course not!), names a referee, who shall hear the testimony in the case, and submit a copy thereof, together with his decision thereon, to the Court for confirmation. Then, before the referee--who is to be properly feed for his officiation--go the divorce-lawyer and two or three shabby-genteel-looking 'witnesses,' who from thenceforth shall never be findable by mortal man again. The 'witnesses' swear to any thing and every thing--that they have seen and recognized defendant in highly improper houses with improper persons; that they know plaintiff to be pure, faithful, and shamefully misused in the marriage relation, etc., etc. As 'defendant,' not even aware that he or she is a 'defendant,' makes no appearance, either in person or by counsel, to combat this dreadful evidence, the referee must, of course, render decision for plaintiff--'the law awards it, and the Court doth give it.' The judge subsequently confirms this decision; a decree of full divorce is granted, in due and full legal form, to the triumphant plaintiff; and the 'defendant' is likely to become aware of the suit for the first time on that night."

The acts of the divorce Ring are no secrets in New York. Yet neither the judges nor the Bar Association make any efforts to rid the courts of such wretches. "A citizen of New York, whose misguided wife had secretly obtained a fraudulent divorce from him through such practice as we have described, and who, in turn, had successfully sued in the legitimate way for the dissolution of marriage thus forced upon him, sought to induce his legal adviser, a veteran metropolitan lawyer of the highest standing, to expose the infamous divorce 'Ring' before the courts, and demand, in behalf of his profession, that its practitioners should be at least disbarred. The response was, that the courts were presumed to be entirely ignorant of the fraudulent parts of the proceedings referred to; that the offenders could be 'cornered' only through a specific case in point against them, and, besides, that the referees in their cases were nearly all connected, either consanguinely or in bonds of partnership interest, with the judges who had appointed them, and before whom the motion for disbarment would probably come! For this last curious reason no lawyer could, consistently with his own best interests, inaugurate a movement likely to involve the whole referee system in its retributive effects. A lawyer so doing might, when arguing future cases in court, find a certain apparent disposition of the Bench to show him less courtesy than on former occasions--to snub him, in fact, and thereby permanently prejudice his professional future likelihoods in that jurisdiction!"

LXXIII. THE CROTON WATER WORKS.

There were many plans for supplying the city of New York with fresh water, previous to the adoption of the Croton Aqueduct scheme, but we have not the space to present them here. They were all inadequate to the necessities of the city, and all in turn were thrown aside. The most important was one for obtaining the water supply from the Bronx River. It was believed that a daily supply of 3,000,000 gallons could be obtained from this stream, but nothing was done in the matter, and it was not until the prevalence of Asiatic Cholera in 1832 had impressed upon the people the necessity of a supply of pure water, nor until the great fire of 1837 had convinced them that they must have an abundance of water, that the scheme for supplying the city from the sources of the Croton River was definitely resolved upon. De Witt Clinton gave his powerful support to the scheme, and the citizens at the municipal elections expressed themselves unqualifiedly in favor of a full supply of fresh water. It was decided to obtain the supply from the Croton River, and in May, 1837, the work on the aqueduct which was to convey it to the city was actually begun, and on the 4th of July, 1842, the Croton water was distributed through the city.

The first step was to throw a massive dam across the Croton River, by means of which the Croton Lake was formed, the water being raised to a depth of forty feet by the obstruction. From this dam an aqueduct, constructed of brick, stone, and cement, conveys the water to the city, a distance of nearly forty miles. It is arched above and below, and is seven and a half feet wide, and eight and a half feet high, with an inclination of thirteen inches to the mile. It rests on the ground for a portion of its course, and in other parts is supported by a series of stone arches. It crosses twenty-five streams in Westchester County, besides numerous brooks, which flow under it through culverts. It is conveyed across the Harlem River by means of the High Bridge. The water flows through vast iron pipes, which rest upon the bridge. The bridge is a magnificent stone structure, 1450 feet long, with fifteen arches, the highest of which is one hundred feet above high water mark. Its great height prevents it from interfering with the navigation of the stream. The High Bridge is one of the principal resorts in the suburbs of New York. The structure itself is well worth seeing, and the scenery is famed for its surpassing loveliness.

[Picture: THE HIGH BRIDGE.]

There are two large reservoirs at the city end of the bridge, the "Storage Reservoir," and the "High Service," the latter of which is designed for supplying the elevated section of Washington Heights. From here to the distributing reservoirs in the Central Park, which have already been described, the distance is two and a quarter miles. The distributing reservoir for the principal part of the city is on Fifth Avenue, between Fortieth and Forty-second streets. It covers about four acres of ground, and is built of granite. It is forty feet above the street, is divided into two parts, and will hold 20,000,000 gallons of water. It is exactly forty-one miles from the Croton Lake.

[Picture: THE FIFTH AVENUE RESERVOIR.]

The daily flow of water through the aqueduct is 60,000,000 gallons, its full capacity. The reservoirs hold over 2,000,000,000 gallons, or about fifteen days, supply. Nearly four hundred miles of main pipes distribute the water through the city, and supply it to 67,000 dwelling houses and stores, 1624 manufactories, 290 hospitals, prisons, schools, and public buildings, 307 churches, and 14 markets. There are 72 drinking hydrants, and a number of ornamental fountains in the city. The lakes and fountains in the Central Park are all formed by the Croton water, which is also supplied to the State Prison at Sing Sing, and the Institutions on Blackwell's, Randall's, and Ward's islands. The Croton River is one of the purest streams in the world. The water is bright and sparkling, and there is no sediment perceptible to the naked eye. Actual analysis has shown that the amount of impurity during an entire summer was but 4.45 grains in a gallon, or 7.63 parts in 100,000 parts.

The original cost of the aqueduct and reservoirs was about $9,000,000. Since then the increased supply, the new reservoirs, pipes, etc., have made the total amount upward of $40,000,000. The total receipts from the water tax since the opening of the aqueduct have amounted to about $22,000,000. The tax at present amounts to about $1,232,000 annually.

LXXIV. EXCURSIONS.

The suburbs of New York are very attractive, and excursions to nearly every point within reach of the city are made every day during the summer months. The fares are low, and a day may be pleasantly spent on the water by leaving the city about 8 o'clock in the morning and returning at 6 or 7 P.M.

One of the pleasantest excursions of this kind, is up the Hudson. One may go as far as West Point or Poughkeepsie, and enjoy the magnificent scenery of the famous river, or he may leave the boat at West Point, and spend an hour or two at that place before the arrival of the down boat. The steamers on the Hudson are the best of their kind, and afford every opportunity for enjoyment.

Staten Island, in New York Bay, seven miles from the city, and in full sight of it, offers many attractions to the pleasure seeker. There are several lines of steamers plying between the city and the towns on that island, and making hourly trips. The sail across the bay is delightful, and the fare is only ten or twelve cents each way.

Another trip, and one which should never be omitted by strangers visiting the city, is from Peck Slip up the East River to One-hundred-and-thirtieth street, or Harlem. The route lies along the entire East River front of the city, with Brooklyn, Williamsburg, and Long Island City on the opposite shores. Blackwell's, Randall's, and Ward's islands, with their magnificent edifices, are passed, and Hell Gate is an additional attraction. One is given a better idea of the size of New York and Brooklyn in this way, than in almost any other. Not the least of the attractions is the United States Navy Yard, at Brooklyn, an admirable view of which may be obtained from the deck of the steamer in passing it. The boats run hourly from Peck Slip and Harlem. The fare is ten cents each way. In the summer time there is a line of steamers plying between Harlem and the High Bridge, and connecting with the Peck Slip boats.

[Picture: U.S. NAVY YARD, BROOKLYN.]

The towns on Long Island Sound are also connected with New York by lines of steamers. These are among the pleasant objective points for excursionists within reach of the city.

The old route to Philadelphia, by way of South Amboy, offers another attraction. The boat is a fine and powerful steamer, and makes two trips daily between New York and South Amboy. Sometimes the route lies through the picturesque Kill Van Kull, or Staten Island Sound, or through the Narrows, into the Outer Bay, and around Staten Island into Raritan Bay.

[Picture: WEST POINT.]

The famous resorts of Rockaway and Coney Island are reached in from one to two hours by steamer. At either of these places a day may be spent on the sea shore. The surf-bathing is excellent at both, and each may also be reached by a railway. Of late years, Coney Island has become a favorite resort of the roughs of New York and Brooklyn, and, as a consequence, is not as attractive to respectable visitors as formerly.

Perhaps the pleasantest of all the excursions, except the trip up the Hudson, is the sail from the city to Sandy Hook and back on the Long Branch boats. These are magnificent steamers, and make several trips each day during the summer season. They connect at Sandy Hook with the railway to Long Branch. One may leave the city in the morning, spend the day at the Branch, enjoy a bath in the surf, and reach the New York pier again by 8 o'clock in the evening. The round trip fare is about two dollars. The boats are provided with every luxury, and are famous for their excellent table. A good band accompanies each, and discourses delicious music during the sail. The route lies down the harbor through the Narrows, and down the Lower Bay to Sandy Hook, in full sight of the Atlantic, and near enough to it to feel the deep swelling of its restless breast. Those who do not care to visit Long Branch may make the round trip in four hours.

LXXV. SAILORS IN NEW YORK.

In the streets in the vicinity of the water, there are many buildings used as "Sailors' Boarding-houses." One would suppose that poor Jack needed a snug resting-place after his long and stormy voyages, but it is about the last thing he finds in New York. The houses for his accommodation are low, vile places. They are located in the filthiest sections of the city, and are never clean. Jack, however, is used to hard fare. He has spent six months, or it may be two years, in the damp and cheerless forecastle, and he will not grumble at the aspect of the only quarters available to him on shore. He has crowded with twenty men and boys into a space much smaller than the chamber assigned him, and he does not object to having half a dozen room mates. The bed is a wretched cot, but it is better than a bunk or a hammock, and Jack is not so used to cleanliness as to make him very fastidious.

The boarding-house has a flashy air. There are bright curtains at the windows, and the entire front is usually painted some gaudy color, and is adorned with a sign, with the name of the establishment in gilt letters. "The Sailor's Retreat," "Our House," "The Sailor's Welcome Home," "The Jolly Tar," and "The Flowing Sea Inn" are favorite names with these places. The entrance is generally low and narrow, and conducts the visitor to the main room, which is often the bar, of the house. This is a small, low-pitched apartment. The floor is sanded, and the ceiling is lined with tissue paper pendants cut in various designs. The mantelpiece is adorned with various seamen's trophies and curiosities from foreign lands, the majority of which have been stolen from the poor fellows, who brought them home for a different purpose. The bar is adorned with a multitude of bottles, decanters, and glasses, and the liquors give no indication to the eye of their deadly properties. A person accustomed to cross the ocean in the luxurious cabin of a Cunarder, would not find the place very attractive, but to Jack, who has never known anything better than the forecastle, it has many attractions, and he falls an easy victim to it.

The landlords of these places are simply the meanest of thieves and bullies. They charge a uniform price of about seven dollars per week, for which they give a mean bed in a dirty room occupied by five or six other persons, and three indifferent meals a day. They do not, however, reap their profits from their legitimate business. Their principal earnings are gained by their crimes.

They keep their runners in the harbor on the watch for ships coming in from long voyages. These board the vessels as soon as they reach the bay, and at once begin to extol the merits of their several establishments. They are adepts at their art, and before the vessel has cast anchor at her berth, they have secured one or more men apiece for their houses. They never leave them after this, but "stick to them" until they receive their wages, after which they conduct them to the boarding-house, and turn them over to the landlord. If the sailor is unwilling to promise to become a guest at the boarding-house, the runner has but little trouble in inducing him to "drop in and look at it." The great object is to get him within its doors. The first sense of freedom from the confinements of the ship is very grateful to Jack, and puts him in a good humor with himself and everybody else. This renders him the easier a victim.

When he has been brought within the portals of the boarding-house, the next step is to induce him to drink. Sailors are very tough, but even they cannot stand up against the effects of the poisonous liquors sold here. If the landlord is not able to induce the new-comer to drink, the "Jackal," or the porter, is called in. Jack never suspects the porter of any design upon him, but believes that the landlord is his only enemy, and the "Jackal" is usually successful. If it is found necessary to make quick work of the case, the liquor is drugged; but, as a general rule, it is poisonous enough to stupefy even a strong man in a very short while. When the victim is fairly helpless, he is conducted to his room. There may be other "boarders" in this apartment, but they are generally too drunk to notice what is going on. The doors are utterly without fastenings, and are oiled to prevent them from creaking. When all is quiet, and the victim is plunged in a heavy slumber, the "Jackal" creeps up the stairs, enters the room, and robs the poor fellow of whatever money or valuables he may have on his person. In the morning, when the sailor awakens, sick and disheartened, he discovers his loss. The landlord is full of sympathy for him, and is indignant that such an outrage should have been perpetrated beneath his roof. He has the house searched, and, if the sailor cannot be made drunk again, goes through the farce of causing the arrest of a "stool-pigeon," who is of course discharged for lack of evidence against him. Usually, however, the sailor is made drunk, and is gotten to sea again on a long voyage as soon as possible.

The various methods of forcing a sailor to sea are called "Shanghaiing." The practice is resorted to by landlords, to enable them to complete the crews which they have contracted to furnish to vessels. The owners and masters of these vessels are fully aware of the infamous manner in which men are procured for them, but say they must either connive at it, or let their vessels go to sea shorthanded. In "Shanghaiing" a sober man, resort is had to false promises. He is induced to go on board of a vessel, "to see how he likes her." He is then detained by force until the ship has left port. His true name is not entered on the list presented at the Custom House on the day before sailing, but he is passed under a fictitious name. When the wretches who carry on this business are very much pressed for men, they do not hesitate to waylay sailors, knock them senseless, and convey them on board vessels in this condition. They are not particular as to the qualifications of the men they ship as "able-bodied and thorough seamen." They sometimes abduct men who have never trod the deck of a ship before. During the war the notorious Thomas Hadden, of 374 Water street, induced a poor tailor to go on board of a ship by telling him that the crew wanted their clothes mended, and assured him that the "job" would give him employment for several days, and amply repay him for his trouble. The tailor, upon going on board, was at once set to work in the forecastle on a lot of dilapidated jackets, and Mr. Hadden at once went ashore. Immediately the cables were cast off, and the ship was towed out into the stream by a tug which had been held in readiness. The unsuspecting tailor continued his work, never noticing the motion of the ship, and it was not until she had crossed the bar, and gotten to sea, that he was aroused by the rough voice of the mate, commanding him to go to his duty on deck. Then, to his horror, he found that he was on his way to Canton. He returned, after a voyage of two years, and at once took measures to bring Hadden to justice. The wretch escaped, however, and was not seen again in Water street for three years. Mr. Hadden is now serving out a term of ten years imprisonment in the New Jersey Penitentiary, for grand larceny.

Usually, however, "Shanghaiing" is practised upon drunken sailors only. They are made drunk, as has been stated, immediately after the discovery of the loss of their wages, and are kept so until an opportunity presents itself for sending them to sea. Thus they are gotten rid of, care being taken to ship them only on voyages of two and three years duration. The landlords receive a premium on the men furnished by them. They also make out fictitious claims against the poor fellows, and pocket the three months' wages advanced by the owners or masters of the vessels on which the unfortunates are shipped.

[Picture: NEW YORK SEAMEN'S EXCHANGE BUILDING.]

Thus the sailor is plundered, made drunk, prevented from enjoying any other society on shore but that of thieves and the lowest prostitutes. It frequently happens that the poor fellow never receives the benefit of a single penny of his earnings, and never spends more than a week or ten days ashore between his voyages. Efforts have been made by conscientious ship-owners to put a stop to the outrages of the landlords, but each one has failed. The wretches have banded together, and have prevented sailors from shipping, and in the end the ship-owners have been compelled to abandon the sailor to the mercy of his tyrants. Only a law of Congress, regulating sailors' boarding houses, according to the system now in use in England, will remedy the evil. Efforts are now being made to secure the passage, during the present session of Congress, of a bill, entitled the "Shipping Commissioners' Bill," which has received the sanction of the shipping merchants of New York, and which will effectually remedy the evils we have described.

The merchants of the city have also organized a "Seamen's Exchange," the objects of which are thus set forth by the Association:

"The objects of this Association shall be the moral, mental, and social improvement of seamen, to elevate their character and efficiency as a class, and to protect them from impositions and abuses at home and abroad.

"To build up such an organization of respectable seamen as will command the respect of the community, enable ship-owners to protect themselves from the imposition of worthless and disorderly characters claiming to be seamen, but disgracing the name, and secure for their vessels reliable and efficient crews; while at the same time the seaman will be enabled to select good ships and good officers, and thus secure good treatment."

They propose to attain these objects by the adoption of the following measures:

"To provide an exchange, reading-room, library, and savings-bank which shall be open to all seamen on the payment of a small annual subscription. To issue certificates of membership, and of character and capacity. To assert and maintain perfect liberty in the selection of boarding-houses, shipping-offices, and voyages. To refuse to pay or to receive 'bonus-money' for ships, or 'blood-money' for men, by which custom both shipowners and seamen are sufferers. To supply vessels with crews without the intervention of any shipping-master should it become necessary. To discourage the system of advanced wages as the source of many evils and but few benefits. To keep a record of the name, age, character, and capacity, so far as can be ascertained, of every member of this Association; also, of the vessels in port, their class, owners or agents, and the voyages on which they are bound. To establish means by which seamen can receive afternoon and evening lessons in the common English branches and navigation. To encourage and assist every sailor in his efforts to improve his character and to save his hard-earned money for the benefit of himself and his family, and on all suitable occasions to give him such advice and information as his circumstances may seem to require."

Our engraving presents a view of the building now in course of erection by the Association.

LXXVI. THE BALLET.

The ballet seems at last to have found a home in New York, and to have become one of the permanent institutions of the great city,--witness the triumphs of the Black Crook, of Humpty Dumpty, and the spectacular plays of the Grand Opera House. It must be confessed that it is well done here. The Black Crook carries off the palm. Its ballets are the best arranged and the best executed, and its dancers are as good looking and attractive as ballet girls ever are.

There are several hundred girls and women in New York who earn their living by dancing in the ballets of the various theatres. The Black Crook alone employs about one hundred. Those who have seen these damsels in their glory, in the full glare of the foot and calcium lights, amidst the most gorgeous surroundings, and under the influence of delicious music, may have come to the conclusion that such a life must be very pleasant. They little know the experience of a ballet girl. "It's a hard life," said one of them, not long since, "and very little fun in it, if you're decent."

The ballet girl always appears on the bills as a miss, but some of them are married, and have to support helpless or worthless husbands. They are of all nationalities. The Premieres are generally French or Italian--at least on the bills. These are usually excellent dancers, and are fond of their art. They are well paid, and as a rule save their money. Mdlle. Bonafanti received $150 per week from the managers of Niblo's Theatre. Mdlle. Morlacchi also receives large sums. She is a sensible woman, and has invested her earnings in a pretty home in New England, where she spends her summers.

[Picture: THE BALLET.]

Not more than one or two in the same establishment receive such high pay, however. The salaries, as a rule, are small. The Secondas at Niblo's, the home of the Black Crook, receive from $50 to $100 per week. There are twelve coryphees who earn from $25 to $30 per week. Then follow the first, second, and third lines of the ballet, with wages ranging from $5 to $30 per week. The girls who march in the processions of female soldiers receive about $8 per week. The costumes, armor, etc., are furnished by the theatre, but there are many articles of dress which the girls are obliged to furnish at their own expense.

The ballet girl rises about eight o'clock in the morning, and is off to rehearsal by nine. A duller, more dreary sight than a rehearsal of a ballet by daylight, and in plain dress, cannot be imagined. The theatre is dark and gloomy, the stage not much lighter, and everything is in confusion. There is a smell of escaping gas in all parts of the building. Scattered about the stage are a number of girls and women in half skirts, with fleshings on their legs, and some of them with woollen hose drawn over the fleshings to keep them warm. They are terribly jaded and hollow eyed, and they seem incapable of being interested in anything. A very different set from the smiling, graceful houris of the evening before. At a given signal the music begins, and the girls commence a series of capers which seem utterly ridiculous. It is downright hard work for the girls, however; and those who are not engaged in leaping, or pirouetting, or wriggling, are leaning against the scenery and panting with fatigue. The leader of the ballet storms and swears at them, and is made frantic by every little mistake. The rehearsal occupies several hours. If there is a matinee that day, it is kept up until it is time for the girls to dress for that performance. Between the close of the matinee, and the opening of the evening performance, there is not much time for the tired girls to rest.

Upon assembling for the evening performance, the girls are dressed by a practical costumer, whose business it is to see that each one wears her costume properly. This arranged, they pass down to the painter's room, where their cheeks, ears, and nostrils are "touched up" by an artist. Their hair is dressed by another artist, and every defect of face and figure is overcome as far as is possible. Thus adorned, the dull and jaded girl of the morning becomes, under the magical influence of the footlights, a dazzling sprite, and the object of the admiration of the half-grown boys and brainless men who crowd the front rows of orchestra seats.

The performance is not over until near midnight. Then the dancer must change her dress, fold her stage dress carefully away, make up her bundle, and set out for home. The principal dancers, such as Bonafanti, and Morlacchi, of course, have an easier time than the ordinary ballet girls, but all work hard.

It is commonly supposed that the ballet-dancer is of necessity an impure woman. Too many of them are; but, as a class, they are much abused. They work hard, and do not have much leisure time, and deserve more sympathy than reproach. Men, especially, think that, because they appear on the stage in a state of semi-nudity, they are immodest and of easy virtue; and in New York there is a class of men, of nominal respectability, who appear to regard ballet-dancers as their legitimate prey. They exert all their arts to lead these poor girls astray, and are too often successful. There is not a ballet-dancer in the city but can tell many a tale of persecutions of this kind; and if ever the devil employed a legion of emissaries to do his work, they must be the grinning, leering men who occupy the front seats in the theatres during the ballet performances, and who spend their leisure time in seeking to compass the ballet-girl's ruin.

The ballet-girl, says Olive Logan, "is a dancer, and loves dancing as an art. That pose into which she now throws herself with such abandon, is not a vile pandering to the tastes of those giggling men in the orchestra stalls, but is an effort, which, to her idea, is as loving a tribute to a beloved art as a painter's dearest pencil touch is to him. I have seen these women burst into tears on leaving the stage, because they had observed men laughing among themselves, rolling their eyes about, and evidently making unworthy comments on the pretty creatures before them, whose whole heart was for the hour lovingly given over to Terpsichore. 'It is they who are bad,' said Mdlle. B--- to me, the other night; 'it is not we.'"

The majority of the ballet-dancers dwell with their parents, but many of those in the upper ranks of the profession like the freedom of Bleecker street, and reside in that thoroughfare. Thompson street also contains several boarding-houses patronized by dancers and burlesque actresses. A writer in the New York World gives the following clever sketch of the more prosperous ballet-girl at home:

"It was strictly a theatrical boarding-house, and all the young ladies were dancers. 'It would never do to have anybody else here. Mrs. Sullivan is Miss Jones's dresser at the "Adelphi," and she has kept house here some years. Her husband was an actor, and he went to California and never came back. She's a dear good woman, and treats us like her daughters.'

"'How many of you board here?'

"'Thirteen. All of them are high-priced dancers--no ballet and utility girls here. No, sir! We pay $10 to $15 a week for board. She treats us like her own family.'

"Miss Bell then suggested a tour of the house, offering to be the guide of such an exploration. Tripping down stairs with the elastic hop of a bird, she knocked at the door of the lower front chamber, and immediately ushered her companion into the room. It was large and elegant, and in exquisite order. One really beautiful girl was driving a sewing-machine before a window with the industry of a seamstress. Another was engaged in trimming a tiny pair of satin boots with beads of every color. She was short, small, and swarthy, her chief beauty being a languishing pair of black eyes. A third lay at full length on a small bed in an alcove, reading Harper's Bazaar with the avidity of a milliner, or a lady of fashion. She was exceedingly pretty and ladylike. Two of them wore the inevitable white wrapper, while the third was fully dressed in a simple gray walking-suit. The lovely creature at the sewing-machine was Miss Ethel Lynn of the 'Lyceum;' the swarthy girl was Miss Lottie Taylor of the 'Gaiety,' and the third was another Miss Lynn, pseudo-sister of Ethel, with whom she 'worked,' but in reality a no-relation named Ellis. The three girls smiled prettily enough on learning their visitor's object, and the recumbent beauty regretted that it was impossible, under the circumstances, to publish a picture of the scene.

"The next room was occupied by 'a very great swell,' the premiere danseuse of the 'Lyceum'. It contained a superb piano littered with stage properties, dresses, and general odds and ends. The furniture was of splendid quality, and large tinted photographs of prominent French 'professionals,' including an unusually prepossessing likeness of Schneider, decked the walls. Satin tights, exquisitely pink, hung out of a half-open trunk. The danseuse was seated at a small table, her own profuse golden hair coiled after an indolent fashion, while her diamonded fingers were hard at work saturating some superb yellow tresses in a saucerful of colorless fluid, a bleaching agent for continuing the lustre of blond hair. A clamorous parrot trolled a bar or two of 'Un Mari Sage' overhead, and a shaggy poodle lay couched in leonine fashion at her feet, munching a handsome though fractured fan. A well-directed kick of her dainty little slippered foot sent the sacrilegious animal flying on the entrance of the two invaders. This was Mademoiselle Helene Devereux, a young lady who twirled her toes for a salary scarcely less than that of the President of the United States. French by birth, she spoke English with a pure accent. She seemed much amused at the errand of her masculine visitor.

"You want to see a premiere at home? Look at me now, dyeing my own hair. And see that dress there. I made it every bit myself. I get up every morning at 8. Some of the other lazy things in the house never think of breakfast till 10. But I turn out at 8; eat some breakfast; do all my mending; sort out my washing; go to rehearsal; practise new dances; come home to lunch; drive out to the Park; eat my dinner; go to the theatre; eat my supper, and go straight to bed. Can anybody live more properly? I don't think it possible. Mrs. Sullivan says I'm a model. I don't give her the least bit of trouble, and she wouldn't part with me for anything. You ought to have been here just now, and seen little Vulfi of the "Melodeon." She makes $100 a night, and yet she doesn't dress any more stylishly than Mrs. Sullivan; and she never bought a jewel in her life. She supports a mother, and sends a brother to college in Florence. You people think we are fast. That's all nonsense. It is only the little dancers, la canaille, who can afford to be dissipated. I can't, I know that. I'm too tired after the theatre to think of going out on a spree, as they call it. Besides, it doesn't do for a dancer to be too cheap. It hurts her business.'

"'Devereux's nice, isn't she?' said Miss Bell. 'She's very good, and she's plucky. A fellow once followed her home from rehearsal, chirping to her all the way. She said nothing, but went right on into the livery stable next door. The fellow went in after her, and she snatched a carriage whip out of the office, and, oh my! didn't she thrash him? Nobody interfered, and she whipped him till her arm ached. Ever since then she's been receiving dreadful letters, and so has Mrs. Sullivan. She can't find out who sends them, and she's never seen the fellow again.'"

LXXVII. THE POOR OF NEW YORK.

I. THE DESERVING POOR.

Poverty is a terrible misfortune in any city. In New York it is frequently regarded as a crime. But whether the one or the other, it assumes here proportions which it does not reach in other American communities. The city is overrun with those who are classed as paupers, and in spite of the great efforts made to relieve them, their suffering is very great.

The deserving poor are numerous. They have been brought to their sad condition by misfortune. A laboring man may die and leave a widow with a number of small children dependent on her exertions. The lot of such is very hard. Sickness may strike down a father or mother, and thus deprive the remaining members of a family of their accustomed support, or men and women may be thrown out of work suddenly, or may be unable to procure employment. Again, a man may bring himself and his family to want by drunkenness. If the children are too young to earn their bread, the support of the family falls upon the wife. Whatever may be the cause of the misfortune, the lot of the poor in New York is very hard. Their homes are the most wretched tenement houses, and they are compelled to dwell among the most abandoned and criminal part of the population. No wonder poverty is so much dreaded here. The poor man has little, if any, chance of bettering his condition, and he is gradually forced down lower and lower in the scale of misery, until death steps in to relieve him, or he takes refuge in suicide.

[Picture: THE POOR IN WINTER.]

The Missionaries are constant in their labors among the poor. They shrink from no work, are deterred by no danger, but carry their spiritual and temporal relief into places from which the dainty pastors of fashionable churches shrink with disgust. They not only preach the Gospel to the poor, who would never hear it but for them, but they watch by the bed-sides of the sick and the dying, administer the last rites of religion to the believing pauper or the penitent criminal, and offer to the Great Judge the only appeal for mercy that is ever made in behalf of many a soul that dies in its sins. There is many a wretched home into which these men have carried the only joy that has ever entered its doors. Nor are they all men, for many of the most effective Missionaries are gentle and daintily nurtured women. A part of the Missionary's work is to distribute Bibles, tracts, and simple religious instruction. These are simple little documents, but they do a deal of good. They have reformed drunkards, converted the irreligious, shut the mouth of the swearer, and have brought peace to more than one heart. The work is done so silently and unpretendingly that few but those engaged in it know how great are its effects. They are encouraged by the evidences which they have, and continue their work gladly.

Thanks to the Missionaries, many of the deserving poor have been brought under the constant care of the Mission Establishments, from which they receive the assistance they need. Yet there are many who cannot be reached, or at least cannot be aided effectively. The officers of the Howard Mission relate many touching incidents of the suffering that has come under their notice.

There was among the inmates of the Mission, about a year ago, a girl named Rose ---. She was ten years old, and was so lame that she was unable to walk without crutches. When she became old enough to do anything, her mother, a drunken and depraved woman, sent her on the streets to sweep the crossings and beg. She managed to secure a little money, which she invested in "songs." She paid three-quarters of a cent for each "song," and sold them at a cent apiece. With her earnings she supported her mother. Their home was the back room of a cellar, into which no light ever shone, and their bed was a pile of rags. To reach this wretched spot, the little girl was compelled to pass through the front cellar, which was one of the vilest and most disgusting dens in the city.

The mother at length fell ill, and the child in despair applied to the Howard Mission for aid, which she received. Food and clothing were given to the mother, but they were of little use to her, as she died within two days. The breath had scarcely left her body, when the wretches who occupied the outer cellar stripped her of all her clothing, and left her naked. She was wrapped in an old sheet, put into a pine box, nailed up and buried in the potter's field, without the pretence of a funeral.

The little girl, now left alone, succeeded in obtaining some sewing. She worked on one occasion from Tuesday until Saturday, making eleven dozen leaves for trimming ladies' velvet cloaks. She furnished her own thread, and paid her own car fare. She received eight cents a dozen for the leaves, or eighty-eight cents in all, or less than the thread and car fare had actually cost her. The officers of the Howard Mission now came to her aid, and gave her a home in their blessed haven of rest.

One of the evening papers, about a year ago, contained the following "Incident of City Life:"

"In a cellar, No. 91 Cherry street, we found an Irish woman with five children, the oldest probably ten years old. Her husband had been out of work for nearly six months, and was suffering severely from bronchitis. There was no appearance of liquor about the place, and the Missionary who had visited them often said she was sure they did not drink. The woman was suffering severely from heart disease, and had a baby three weeks old. But what a place for a baby! There were two windows, two feet by two feet, next to the street, so splashed on the outside and stained by the dust and mud that they admitted but little light. A tidy housewife might say, Why don't the woman wash them? How can she stop to wash windows, with a baby three weeks old and four helpless little ones besides, crying around her with hunger and cold? The floor had no carpet. An old stove, which would not draw on account of some defect in the chimney of the house, had from time to time spread its clouds of smoke through the cellar--the only room--even when the baby was born. A few kettles, etc., stood around the floor, some crumbs of bread were on a shelf, but no sign of meat or vegetables. A wash-tub, containing half-washed clothing, stood near the middle of the room; there was a table, and a bedstead stood in a corner pretty well furnished--the bed clothing the gift of charity. In this the father, mother, babe, and perhaps a little boy two years old, slept. But the other children? O, they had some old bundles of rags on the floor, and here they were compelled to lie like pigs, with little or nothing to cover them. When it rained, the water from the street poured into this hole, and saturated the rags on which the children slept, and they had to lie there like poor little drowned rats, shivering and wailing till morning came, when they could go out and gather cinders enough to make a fire. The privilege of living in this place cost five dollars per month. And yet this woman was willing to talk about God, and believed in his goodness. She believed that he often visited that place. Yes, he does go down there when the good Miss --- from the Mission descends the slimy steps."

[Picture: THE CITY MISSIONARY.]

"I have been astounded," said a city clergyman to the writer, "to find so much genuine piety in the wretched places I visit. A few nights ago I was called to see a woman who was very ill. The messenger conducted me to a miserable cellar, where, on a bed of rags, I found a woman, about sixty years old, gasping for breath. She greeted me with feverish anxiety, and asked me if I thought it possible for her to get well; I told her I did not know, and as she seemed very ill, I sent the man who had been my conductor, to the nearest police station, to ask for medical aid. I asked her if she wished to live, she answered, 'No, unless it be God's will that I should.' Well, the reply startled me, for the tone was one of unquestioned resignation, and I had not expected to discover that virtue here. In reply to my questions she told me her story--a very common one--of a long life of bitter poverty, following close on a few years of happiness and comfort at the beginning of her womanhood. Her trial had been very hard, but she managed by God's grace to keep her soul pure and her conscience free from reproach.

"In a little while the physician I had sent for came in. He saw her condition at a glance, and turning to me said, in a low tone, that she would not live through the night, that she was literally worn out. As low as he spoke, she overheard him. She clasped her bony hands exultantly, her poor wan face gleamed with joy, and she burst out in her thin, weak voice, into the words of the hymn:

"'Happy soul! thy days are ended, Leave thy trials here below: Go, by angel guards attended, To the breast of Jesus, go!'

"Well, she died that night, and I am sure she is in heaven now."

Great efforts are made by the organized charities of the city to relieve the sufferings of the deserving poor. Prominent among these charities is the "Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor." The object of the Society is to help them by enabling them to help themselves and gradually to lift them up out of the depths of poverty. The city is divided into small districts, each of which is in charge of a visitor, whose duty it is to seek out the deserving poor. All the assistance is given through these visitors, and nothing is done, except in extreme cases, until the true condition of the applicant is ascertained. Money is never given, and only such supplies as are not likely to be improperly used. Every recipient of the bounty of the Society is required to abstain from intoxicating liquors, to send young children to school, and to apprentice those of a suitable age. During the twenty-seven years of its existence, ending October 1st, 1870, the Society has expended in charities the sum of $1,203,767, and has given relief to 180,000 families, or 765,000 persons. The office of the Society is in the Bible House.

II. THE BEGGARS.

Begging is a profession in New York. The deserving poor rarely come on the streets to seek aid, but the beggars crowd them, as they know the charitable institutions of the city would at once detect their imposture. A short while ago the "Superintendent of the Out-door Poor," said to a city merchant, "As a rule never give alms to a street beggar. Send them to me when they accost you, and not one in fifty will dare to show his face in my office."

The New York beggars are mainly foreigners. Scarcely an American is seen on the streets in this capacity. Every year the number is increasing. Foreigners who were professional beggars in their own countries, are coming over here to practise their trades, and these make New York their headquarters. It is estimated that there are more professional beggars here than in all the other cities of the country combined.

Broadway, and especially Fourteenth street, Union Square, and the Fifth avenue are full of them. They represent all forms of physical misfortune. Some appear to have but one leg, others but one arm. Some are blind, others horribly deformed. Some are genuine cripples, but the majority are sound in body. They beg because the business is profitable, and they are too lazy to work. The greater the semblance of distress, the more lucrative is their profession. Women hire babies, and post themselves in the thoroughfares most frequented by ladies. They generally receive a considerable sum during the course of the day. Others again provide themselves with a basket, in which they place a wretched display of shoestrings which no one is expected to buy, and station themselves in Broadway to attract the attention of the charitably disposed. The most daring force their way into private houses and the hotels and demand assistance with the most brazen effrontery. They hang on to you with the utmost determination, exposing the most disgusting sights to your gaze, and annoying you so much that you give them money in order to be rid of them. They, in their turn, mark you well, and remember you when you pass them again.

Perhaps the most annoying of the street beggars are the children. They frequent all parts of the city, but literally infest Fourteenth street and the lower part of the Fifth avenue. Many of them are driven into the streets by their parents to beg. They have the most pitiful tales to tell if you will listen to them. There is one little girl who frequents Fourteenth street, whose "mother has just died and left seven small children," every day in the last two years. A gentleman was once accosted by two of these children, whose feet were bare, although the weather was very cold. Seizing each by the arm, he ordered them to put on their shoes and stockings. His manner was so positive that they at once sat down on a door step, and producing their shoes and stockings from beneath their shawls, put them on. Many of these children support drunken or depraved parents by begging, and are soundly beaten by them if they return home at night without money. They grow up to a life of vagrancy. They soon learn to cheat and steal, and from such offences they pass rapidly into prostitution and crime.

Besides these street beggars, there are numbers of genteel, and doubtless well-meaning persons who make it their business to beg for others. They intrude upon you at the most inconvenient times, and venture into your private apartments with a freedom and assurance which positively amaze you. Refuse them, and they are insulting.

Then there are those who approach you by means of letters. They send you the most pitiful appeals for aid, and assure you that nothing but the direst necessity induces them to send you such a letter, and that they would not do so under any circumstances, were not they aware of your well-known charitable disposition. Some persons of known wealth receive as many as a dozen letters of this kind each day. They are, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, from impostors, and are properly consigned to the waste-basket.

Housekeepers have frequent applications every day for food. These are generally complied with, as, in all families of moderate size, there is much that must either be given or thrown away. Children and old people generally do this kind of begging. They come with long faces and pitiful voices, and ask for food in the most doleful tones. Grant their requests, and you will be amused at the cool manner in which they will produce large baskets, filled with provisions, and deposit your gift therein. Many Irish families find all their provisions in this way.

LXXVIII. QUACK DOCTORS.

Carlyle's savage description of the people of England--"Eighteen millions of inhabitants, mostly fools"--is not applicable to his countrymen alone. It may be regarded as descriptive of the world at large, if the credulity, or to use a more expressive term, "the gullibility" of men is to be taken as a proof that they are "fools." Many years ago a sharp-witted scamp appeared in one of the European countries, and offered for sale a pill which he declared to be a sure protection against earthquakes. Absurd as was the assertion, he sold large quantities of his nostrum and grew rich upon the proceeds. The credulity which enriched this man is still a marked characteristic of the human race, and often strikingly exhibits itself in this country. During the present winter a rumor went out that a certain holy woman, highly venerated by the Roman Catholic Church, had predicted on her death-bed, that during the month of February, 1872, there would be three days of intense darkness over the world, in which many persons would perish, and that this darkness would be so intense that no light but that of a candle blessed by the Church could penetrate it. A Roman Catholic newspaper in Philadelphia ventured to print this prophecy, and immediately the rush for consecrated candles was so great on the part of the more ignorant members of that Church, that the Bishop of the Diocese felt himself obliged to publicly rebuke the superstition. This credulity manifests itself in nearly every form of life. The quack doctors or medical impostors, to whom we shall devote this chapter, live upon it, and do all in their power to encourage it.

There are quite a number of these men in New York. They offer to cure all manner of diseases, some for a small and others for a large sum. It has been discovered that some of these men carry on their business under two or three different names, often thus securing a double or triple share of their wretched business. The newspapers are full of their advertisements, many of which are unfit for the columns of a reputable journal. They cover the dead walls of the city with hideous pictures of disease and suffering, and flood the country with circulars and pamphlets setting forth the horrors of certain diseases, and giving an elaborate description of the symptoms by which they may be recognized. A clever physician has said that no man ever undertakes to look for defects in his physical system without finding them. The truth of the remark is proven by the fact that a very large number of persons, reading these descriptions of symptoms, many of which symptoms are common to a number of ills, come to the conclusion that they are affected in the manner stated by the quack. Great is the power of the imagination! so great, indeed, that many sound, healthy men are thus led to fancy themselves in need of medical attention. A short interview with some reputable physician would soon undeceive them, but they lay aside their good sense, and fall victims to their credulity. They think that as the quack has shown them where their trouble lies, he must needs have the power of curing them. They send their money to the author of the circular in question, and request a quantity of his medicine for the purpose of trying it. The nostrum is received in due time, and is accompanied by a second circular, in which the patient is coolly informed that he must not expect to be cured by one bottle, box, or package, as the case may be, but that five or six, or sometimes a dozen will be necessary to complete the cure, especially if the case is as desperate and stubborn as the letter applying for the medicine seems to indicate. Many are foolish enough to take the whole half dozen bottles or packages, and in the end are no better in health than they were at first. Indeed they are fortunate if they are not seriously injured by the doses they have taken. They are disheartened in nine cases out of ten, and are, at length, really in need of good medical advice. They have paid the quack more money than a good practitioner would demand for his services, and have only been injured by their folly.

It may be safely said that no honest and competent physician will undertake to treat cases by letter. No one worthy of patronage will guarantee a cure in any case, for an educated practitioner understands that cases are many and frequent where the best human skill may be exerted in vain. Further than this, a physician of merit will not advertise himself in the newspapers, except to announce the location of his office or residence. Such physicians are jealous of their personal and professional reputations, and are proud of their calling, which is justly esteemed one of the noblest on earth. They are men of humanity, and learning, and they take more pleasure in relieving suffering than in making money. To those who have no money they give their services in the name of the Great Healer of all ills. They have no private remedies. Their knowledge is freely given to the scientific world that all men may be benefited by it, contenting themselves with the enjoyments of the fame of their discoveries.

The quack, however, is a different being. In some cases he has medical knowledge, in the majority of instances he is an ignoramus. His sole object is to make money, and he sells remedies which he knows to be worthless, and even vends drugs which he is sure will do positive harm in the majority of cases.

The best plan is never to answer a medical advertisement. There are regular physicians enough in the land, and if one is influenced by motives of economy, he is pursuing a mistaken course in dealing with the advertising quack doctors of New York. If there is real trouble, so much the greater is the need of the advice of an educated and conscientious physician. If concealment is desired, the patient is safe in the confidential relations which every honest physician observes towards those under his care. A man is simply a fool to swallow drugs or compounds of whose nature he is ignorant, or to subject himself to treatment at the hands of one who has no personal knowledge of his case.

The same credulity which makes the fortunes of quack doctors, enriches the vendors of "Patent Medicines." The majority of the "specifics," "panaceas," etc., advertised in the newspapers are humbugs. They are generally made of drugs which can do no good, even if they do no harm. Some are made of dangerous chemical substances, and nearly all contain articles which the majority of people are apt to abuse. The remedies advertised as cures for "private diseases" generally do nothing but keep the complaint at a fixed stage, and give it an opportunity to become chronic. The "Elixirs of Life," "Life Rejuvenators," "Vital Fluids," and other compounds sold to "revive worn out constitutions" are either dangerous poisons or worthless draughts. A prominent dealer in drugs once said to the writer that the progress of a certain "Bitters" could be traced across the continent, from Chicago to California "by the graves it had made." Bitters, "medicinal wines" and such liquors have no virtues worth speaking of. They either ruin the tone of the stomach, or produce habits of intemperance.

The "washes," "lotions," "toilet fluids," etc., are generally apt to produce skin diseases. They contain, in almost every instance, substances which are either directly or indirectly poisonous to the skin. The "tooth washes," "powders," and "dentifrices," are hurtful. They crack or wear away the enamel of the teeth, leave the nerve exposed, and cause the teeth to decay. If you are wise, dear reader, you will never use a dentifrice, unless you know what it is made of. The principal constituent of these dentifrices is a powerful acid, and there are some which contain large quantities of sulphuric acid, one single application of which will destroy the best teeth in the world. The "hair dyes," advertised under so many different names, contain such poisons as nitrate of silver, oxide of lead, acetate of lead, and sulphate of copper. These are fatal to the hair, and generally injure the scalp. The "ointments" and "unguents," for promoting the growth of whiskers and moustaches, are either perfumed and colored lard, or poisonous compounds, which contain quick lime, or corrosive sublimate, or some kindred substance. If you have any acquaintance who has ever used this means of covering his face with a manly down, ask him which came first, the beard, or a troublesome eruption on the face.

Dr. Harris, the recent Superintendent of the Board of Health of New York, has frequently pointed out the evils resulting from the use of these compounds. Dr. Sayre mentions several cases of fatal poisoning by the use of hair dye, which came under his notice.

The newspapers frequently contain such advertisements as the following:

A RETIRED PHYSICIAN, OF FORTY YEARS' practice, discovered, while in India, a sure remedy for consumption, bronchitis, colds, etc. Having relinquished his practice, he has no further use for the remedy, and will send it free on receipt of a three cent stamp to pay return postage.

Sometimes the advertiser is "A lady who has been cured of great nervous debility after many years of misery." Again, the advertiser is a "Retired clergyman," or a "Sufferer restored to health, and anxious to benefit his fellow men." In whatever form the announcement is made, the advertiser is usually one and the same person--an ignorant knave, who lives by his wits. He advertises largely in all parts of the land, spending thousands of dollars annually, and it would seem that even an idiot could understand that the most benevolent person could not afford so expensive a method of "benefiting his fellow men." Letters come to him by the hundred, from simpletons who have "taken his bait," asking for his valuable recipe. He sends the prescription, and notifies the party asking for it, that if the articles named in it cannot be procured by him at any drug store convenient to him, he, the "retired physician," "clergyman," or "nervous lady," will furnish them, upon application, at a certain sum (generally averaging five dollars), which he assures him is very cheap, as the drugs are rare and expensive. The articles named in the prescription are utterly unknown to any druggist in the world, and the names are the production of the quack's own brains, and, as a matter of course, the patient is unable to procure them at home, and sends an order for them with the price, to the "retired physician," "clergyman," or "nervous lady," and in return receives a nostrum compounded of drugs, which any apothecary could have furnished at one half the expense. In this way the "benevolence" of the quack is very profitable. Men have grown rich in this business, and it is carried on to an amazing extent in this city. It is done in violation of the law, and the benevolent individual not unfrequently falls into the hands of the police, but, as soon as released, he opens his business under a new name. As long as there are fools and dupes in the world, so long will the "retired physician" find an extensive practice.

LXXIX. YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION.

The letters "Y.M.C.A." are familiar to every city and town of importance in the Union, and are well known to be the initials of one of the most praiseworthy organizations in the world. It is needless to enter into any general account of the Young Men's Christian Association, and I shall devote this chapter to a description of the means employed by that body to carry on its work in the metropolis. A writer in Harper's Magazine has aptly described the headquarters of the Association as a "Club House." "For such it is," he adds, "both in its appliances and its purposes, though consecrated neither to politics, as are some, to social festivities, degenerating too often into gambling and intemperance, as are others, nor to literature and polite society, as are one or two, but to the cause of good morals, of pure religion, and of Him who is the divine Inspirer of the one and the divine Founder of the other."

The building thus referred to is located on the southwest corner of Fourth avenue and Twenty-third street, and is one of the handsomest and most attractive edifices in the city. The locality is admirably chosen. It is in full sight of the Fifth avenue and the neighboring hotels, and but one block east of Madison Square. On the opposite side of Twenty-third street is the beautiful Academy of Design; diagonally opposite is the College of Physicians and Surgeons, and immediately across Fourth avenue is the splendid structure of St. Paul's Methodist Episcopal Church. It is but three minutes' walk from the stages and cars on Broadway, and two of the most important lines of street cars pass its doors. No better location could have been chosen.

[Picture: YOUNG MEN'S CHRISTIAN ASSOCIATION HALL.]

The building is five stories in height, and is constructed of dark New Jersey sandstone, from the Belleville quarries. It covers about one-third of an acre of ground, and has a frontage of one hundred and seventy-five feet on Twenty-third street, and eighty-three feet on the Fourth avenue. The architecture is of the French Renaissance style. The trimmings are of light Ohio stone, but the brown stone gives to the building its general aspect. The ground floor is occupied by handsome stores, and the fourth and fifth floors are devoted chiefly to artists' studios. These bring in an annual rental of about $12,000 or $13,000.

The second and third floors are used exclusively by the Association. At the head of the grand stairway which leads from the main entrance in Twenty-third street, is a large hall. On the left of this stairway is the main hall or lecture-room, one of the handsomest and most convenient public halls in the city. At the upper end is a fine platform with every convenience for lectures or concerts. The floor is provided with iron arm chairs, arranged after the manner of those in the parquet of Booth's Theatre. A large gallery extends around three sides of the hall, and is similarly provided with seats. The hall is two stories in height, is beautifully decorated, and will seat with comfort fifteen hundred people. On one side of the platform is a retiring room, and on the other is a large and handsomely decorated organ. This is one of the finest instruments in the city, and is a novelty in some respects, being furnished with a drum, a triangle, and a pair of cymbals. Organ concerts, lectures, and concerts by celebrated performers are given weekly during the fall and winter. On Sunday, religious services are held in the hall, the pastors of the different city churches officiating at the invitation of a committee of the Association in charge of these services.

On the opposite side of the main hall is the Reception Room of the Association, at one side of which is a door leading into the office of the Secretary, who is the executive officer. Adjoining the Reception Room are the Social Parlors and the Reading Room, in the latter of which the leading journals of the country are on file. The parlors are used for receptions and other social reunions of the members. From the Reception Room a flight of stairs leads directly down to the gymnasium and bowling-alley, where are to be found all the appliances for the development of "muscular Christianity" in its highest form.

On the third floor, which is on a level with the gallery of the Lecture Room, are rooms for prayer meetings, Bible classes, and week day classes for instruction in modern languages and other studies. Adjoining these is a handsome Library Room. The collection of books is increasing rapidly, and promises to be both valuable and useful.

[Picture: THE LIBRARY.]

Taken altogether, or in detail, the building and all its appointments are palatial. It is already the centre of a great and useful work, and offers many inducements to young men, especially to those who are living in the city, away from their homes and families, and in the demoralizing atmosphere of the hotels and boarding-houses. The Association, however, does not content itself with merely offering these inducements to those who will seek its doors, but sends its members forth into the haunts of suffering and vice, and endeavors to win back those who have gone astray from the paths of virtue, and to alleviate the misery of those who are in distress.

LXXX. CASTLE GARDEN.

Nine-tenths of the emigration from Europe to the United States is through the port of New York. In order to accommodate the vast number of arrivals, the Commissioners of Emigration have established a depot for the especial accommodation of this class.

The emigrant ships, both sailing vessels and steamers, anchor in the river after entering the port. They generally lie off their own piers, and wait for the Custom House boat to board them. As soon as this is done, and the necessary forms are gone through with, preparations are made to land the emigrants, who, with their baggage, are placed on board a small steamer and conveyed to Castle Garden, a round building which juts out into the water at the upper end of the Battery.

In the year 1807, work was begun on this building by order of the General Government, the site having been ceded by the city. It was intended to erect a strong fortification, to be called Castle Clinton, but, in 1820, it was discovered that the foundations were not strong enough to bear heavy ordnance, and Congress reconveyed the site to the city. The building was then completed as an opera house, and was used for several years for operatic and theatrical performances, concerts, and public receptions. It was the largest and most elegant hall in the country, and was the favorite resort of pleasure-seekers. Jenny Lind sang there, during her visit to the United States. It was used for public amusements until 1825, when, the wealth and fashion of the city having removed too high up town to make it profitable, it was leased to the Commissioners of Emigration as a landing-place for emigrants.

[Picture: THE BATTERY AND CASTLE GARDEN.]

This commission has the exclusive charge of the Landing Depot and its inmates. It is composed of six Commissioners, appointed by the Governor of the State. The Mayors of New York and Brooklyn, and the Presidents of the Irish and German Emigrant Societies, are members ex-officio. They are responsible to the Legislature for their acts.

The Landing Depot is fitted up with quarters for the emigrants and their baggage, and with various stores at which they can procure articles of necessity at moderate prices. As most of them come provided with some money, there is an exchange office in the enclosure, at which they can procure American currency for their foreign money. Many of them come furnished with railroad tickets to their destinations in the West, which they have purchased in Europe, but the majority buy their tickets in this city. There is an office for this purpose in the building, at which the agents of the various lines leading from the city to the Great West are prepared to sell tickets. No one is compelled to transact his business in the building, but all are advised to do so, as they will then be fairly treated; while they are in danger of falling into the hands of swindlers outside. Attached to the establishment is an official, whose duty it is to furnish any information desired by the emigrants, and to advise them as to the boarding houses of the city which are worthy of their patronage. The keepers of these houses are held to a strict account of their treatment of their guests.

The majority of the emigrants go West in a few days after their arrival. Some have already decided on their place of future abode before leaving Europe, and others are influenced by the information they receive after reaching this country. Should they desire to remain in this city, they are frequently able to obtain employment, through the Labor Exchange connected with the Landing Depot, and by the same means many obtain work in other parts of the country--the Commissioners taking care that the contracts thus made are lawful and fair to both parties.

As we have said, the greater number of the emigrants arriving here have money when they come. Others, who have been able to raise only enough to reach this, to them, "land of promise," or who have been swindled out of their funds by sharpers in European ports, arrive here in the most destitute condition. These are a burden to the city and State at first, and are at once sent to the Emigrant Refuge and Hospital.

[Picture: EMIGRANT HOSPITAL.]

This establishment is located on Ward's Island, in the Harlem River, and consists of several large buildings for hospitals, nurseries, and other purposes. It has a farm of one hundred and six acres attached to it. The destitute emigrants are sent to this establishment, as soon as their condition is ascertained, and cared for until they either obtain employment, or are provided for by their friends in this country, or are sent to their original destinations in the West at the expense of the Commissioners. Medical attendance is provided at the Landing Depot, and is free to all needing it. Serious cases are sent to the hospital on Ward's Island, where good medical skill and attendance are furnished.

The number of emigrants at the Refuge sometimes amounts to several hundred of all nationalities. The Irish and German elements predominate, and these being bitterly hostile to each other, the authorities are frequently compelled to adopt severe measures to prevent an open collision between them. In the winter of 1867-68, the Irish and German residents on the island came to blows, and a bloody riot immediately began between them, which was only quelled by the prompt arrival of a strong force of the City Police.

The Commissioners adopt every means in their power to prevent the inmates of the Landing Depot from falling into the hands of sharpers. Each emigrant in passing out of the enclosure for any purpose is required to apply for a permit, without which he cannot return, and no one is allowed, by the policeman on duty at the gate, to enter without permission from the proper authorities. In this way sharpers and swindlers are kept out of the enclosure, inside of which the emigrant is perfectly safe; and when he ventures out he is warned of the dangers he will have to encounter the moment he passes the gateway.

The majority of the emigrants are unable to speak our language, and all are ignorant of the country, its laws, and customs. This makes them an easy prey to the villains who throng the Battery in wait for them.

Approaching these poor creatures, as they are gazing about them with the timidity and loneliness of strangers in a strange land, the scoundrels will accost them in their own language. Glad to hear the mother-tongue once more, the emigrant readily enters into conversation with the fellow, and reveals to him his destination, his plans, and the amount of money he has with him. The sharper after some pleasantries meant to lull the suspicions of his victim, offers to show him where he can purchase his railroad tickets at a lower rate than at the office in the Landing Depot, and if the emigrant is willing, conducts him to a house in Washington, Greenwich, West, or some neighboring street, where a confederate sells him the so-called railroad tickets and receives his money. He is then conducted back to the Battery by a different route, and the sharper leaves him. Upon inquiring at the office, he learns that his cheap tickets are so much worthless paper, and that he has been swindled out of his money, which may be his all. Of course he is unable to find the place where he was robbed, and has no redress for his loss.

Others again are led off, by persons who pretend to be friends, to take a friendly drink in a neighboring saloon. Their liquor is drugged, and they are soon rendered unconscious, when they are robbed of their money, valuables, and even their clothes, and turned out into the street in this condition, to be picked up by the police.

All sorts of worthless wares are palmed off upon them by unscrupulous wretches. They are drawn into gaming and are fleeced out of their money. Dozens of sharpers are on the watch for them, and woe to them if they fall into the hands of these wretches.

Women are prominent amongst the enemies of the emigrants. The proprietors of the dance-houses and brothels of the city send their agents to the Battery, to watch their opportunity to entice the fresh, healthy emigrant girls to their hells. They draw them away by promises of profitable employment, and other shams, and carry them off to the houses of their heartless masters and mistresses. There they are drugged and ruined, or in other ways literally forced into lives of shame.

LXXXI. WORKING WOMEN.

It is said that there are more than forty thousand women and girls in New York dependent upon their own exertions for their support. This estimate includes the sewing women, factory girls, shop girls, female clerks, teachers, and governesses. They all labor under two common disadvantages. They are paid less for the same amount of work than men, and being more helpless than men are more at the mercy of unscrupulous employers. The female clerks and shop girls receive small wages, it is true, but they are generally paid regularly and honestly. The sewing women and factory hands are usually the most unfortunate, and these constitute the great bulk of the working women of New York. Many of these are married, or are widows with children dependent upon them for support.

The life of the New York working woman is very hard. She rises about daybreak, for she must have breakfast and be at her post by seven o'clock, if employed in a factory or workshop. At noon she has a brief intermission for dinner, and then resumes her work, which lasts until 6 o'clock in the evening. You may see them in the morning, thinly clad, weary and anxious, going in crowds to their work. They have few holidays except on Sunday, and but few pleasures at any time. Life with them is a constant struggle, and one in which they are always at a disadvantage. The sewing girls are in the majority, and there are two classes of these--those who work in the rooms of their employers and those who work at home. The former we have included in the general term of factory hands. The factory girls earn from two to four dollars a week, as a rule, a sum scarcely sufficient to keep body and soul together, but they get their wages promptly and consider themselves fortunate. Men doing the same work would receive about twice as much.

[Picture: THE SEWING-GIRL'S HOME.]

The sewing women who work at home are worse off. They live in the poorer class of tenement houses, and are surrounded with discomfort of every kind. They work as hard as, if not harder than their sisters in the factories, and are even worse paid. They have not the advantage of being compelled to undertake the exercise of walking to and from the factories which the latter enjoy. They sit in their wretched rooms all day, and often late into the night, sewing for a miserable pittance, and for some scoundrel who will perhaps swindle them out of their hard earnings. For making blue cotton shirts, or "hickories" as they are called, a woman receives six cents apiece, and must furnish her own thread; for making linen coats she receives from fifteen to twenty cents apiece; for men's heavy overalls she gets sixty-two cents a dozen; for flannel shirts one dollar a dozen. These prices are not paid by the Jews alone, but by reputable Broadway dealers, men who style themselves "leading merchants." No wonder they pile up such large fortunes.

Now, in order to pay the rent of her bare and cheerless room, the sewing woman must make two whole shirts a day. Then she must do work enough to provide for her other expenses. She has to buy fuel in the winter, and kindling wood costs her three cents a bundle and coal fifteen cents a pail. Perhaps she has children, or a sick and helpless, or, worse still, a drunken husband to provide for. All out of her beggarly wages. Her food consists almost entirely of bread and potatoes, and sometimes she treats herself to the luxury of a cup of tea without milk or sugar. If she owns a sewing machine, and very few do, she can earn more than one who sews by hand, but constant work at the machine means a speedy breaking down of her health and a lingering death, or a transfer to the charity hospital.

Small as are her wages, the working woman is not always sure of receiving them. Some rascally employers--and one of the institutions to be mentioned further on, could give a long list of them--will, upon receiving the work, find fault with the sewing, and either deduct a part of the poor creature's wages for the alleged fault, or refuse point blank to pay her a cent. Others again will demand a deposit equal to the value of the materials taken home by the sewing women. Upon the return of the completed work, they will not only refuse the promised payment, alleging that the work is badly done, but will also refuse to return the money advanced by the woman. The wretch well knows that the woman is weak and helpless, and that she is ignorant of the mode of protecting herself. More than this, she has not the money to go to law.

These are simple facts, and not "sensational items." The records of the "Working Women's Protective Union" will corroborate them, and will furnish many others.

"Among the employes of a certain Israelitish manufacturer of straw goods in New York was a poor French woman, who, with her three small children, occupied apartments in a rear tenement house in Mulberry street. What renders this case of more than ordinary interest, is the fact that the lady had once been in affluent circumstances, and at one period of her life moved in the wealthiest circles of Paris. Misfortune befel her in the death of her husband, who was accidentally killed upon a railroad train. The bulk of the property of her deceased husband was seized upon by her creditors. The widow, however, succeeded in saving from the general wreck a few hundred dollars, and with this she emigrated to America, arriving here in the spring, and bringing with her three little children. Here she anticipated she would be enabled, with the aid of her superior education, to provide for herself and family. For several weeks her efforts at securing employment proved unavailing; but just before her last dollar was expended, she succeeded in forming a class in French, which she instructed for two months, at the expiration of which time she was deprived of this her only support--her pupils leaving her for the purpose of a summer's holiday at the fashionable watering-places. Other efforts were made to secure the position of teacher of languages (with several of which she is conversant), but all to no effect. Finally, reduced to absolute want, the lady was obliged to resort to manual labor in order to provide herself and little ones with bread. Unused as she was to toil, her efforts to obtain employment were attended with little or no success. Day by day her case grew more desperate, until, at last, unable to pay the rent of her miserable attic apartment, she and her little ones were thrust into the street. Homeless and friendless, with not sufficient money wherewith to purchase a supper for herself and famishing little ones, the lady was forced to beg; which course, up to this time in her unfortunate career, she had looked upon as barely preferable to death itself. She had a few acquaintances among the parents of her former pupils, and to these she resolved to apply for aid. Her efforts in this direction were but a repetition of the old, old story. Her friends, who, during her prosperity, were lavishing their attentions on her, now that misfortune had overtaken her, refused to recognize her, and thrust her from their doors without a penny. Fortune relented one day, and rewarded her efforts with a situation in a manufactory of straw goods. To be sure, the compensation was small; still, as bread enough might be secured in this manner to keep the wolf from the door until something better might present itself, she resolved to accept the terms of the straw manufacturer, and entered upon her duties. For a week or two the sum earned by the unfortunate lady was faithfully paid her, but on the third week the pusillanimous nature of the Jew cropped out. She had bargained to manufacture straw hats at eighty cents a dozen, or six and two-third cents each. At this rate, she managed to earn two dollars and fifty cents per week. Upon applying for her wages at the close of the third week, the employer informed her that he had discovered that six and two-thirds cents apiece was too large a compensation, and that from eighty cents he had resolved to reduce her pay to seventy cents per dozen, and accordingly presented her with her weekly payment, first deducting one dollar and forty cents from her wages. Pressed as she was for money, the lady refused to accept these terms, and at once set about seeking legal redress. Learning that at the 'Working Women's Union' of Bleecker street legal advice was furnished free of charge to such as herself, she laid her grievances before the officers of the institution, who at once placed the affair in the hands of their legal adviser, who soon brought the rapacious Israelite to terms. At the time of her application to the institution the lady stated that she had been without fire, and, with the exception of a small loaf or two of bread and what few potatoes her children were enabled to gather from about the stalls in several of the markets, without food for several days."

The wrongs inflicted upon the working women are many. "There are hoop-skirt manufactories where, in the incessant din of machinery, girls stand upon weary feet all day long for fifty cents. There are photograph galleries--you pass them in Broadway admiringly--where girls 'mount' photographs in dark rooms, which are hot in summer and cold in winter, for the same money. There are girls who make fans, who work in feathers, who pick over and assort rags for paper warehouses, who act as 'strippers' in tobacco shops, who make caps, and paper boxes, and toys, and almost all imaginable things. There are milliners' girls, and bindery girls, and printers' girls--press-feeders, book-folders, hat-trimmers. It is not to be supposed that all these places are objectionable; it is not to be supposed that all the places where sewing-girls work are objectionable; but among each class there are very many--far too many--where evils of the gravest character exist, where the poor girls are wronged, the innocents suffer. There are places where there are not sufficient fires kept, in cold weather, and where the poor girl, coming in wet and shivering from the storm, must go immediately to work, wet as she is, and so continue all day. There are places where the 'silent system' of prisons is rigidly enforced, where there are severe penalties for whispering to one's neighbor, and where the windows are closely curtained, so that no girl can look out upon the street; thus, in advance, inuring the girls to the hardships of prison discipline, in view of the possibility that they may, some day become criminals! There are places where the employer treats his girls like slaves, in every sense of the word. Pause a moment, and reflect on all that signifies. As in the South 'as it was,' some of these girls are given curses, and even blows, and even kicks; while others are special favorites either of 'the boss,' or of some of his male subordinates, and dress well, pay four dollars a week for board, and fare well generally--on a salary of three dollars a week."

Is it a wonder that so many of the working women and girls of New York glide into sin, with the hope of bettering their hard lot? And, when thrown out of work, with no food or shelter, save what can be obtained by begging or at the Station House, is it a wonder that they seek the concert saloons, in sheer desperation, or join the street walkers on Broadway?

But if the working woman has her persecutors, she has also her friends in the great city. One of the best institutions which have been organized for the protection and assistance of this class is the "Working Women's Protective Union," the head-quarters of which are in Bleecker street, a short distance east of Broadway. It is organized for the common benefit of all those women who obtain a livelihood by other employments than household services. It aids them:

"First. By securing legal protection from frauds and impositions free of expense. Second. By appeals, respectfully but urgently made, to employers for wages proportioned to the cost of living, and for such shortening of the hours of labor as is due to health and the requirements of household affairs. Third. By seeking new and appropriate spheres of labor in departments not now occupied by them. Fourth. By sustaining a registry system, through which those out of work may be assisted in finding employment. Fifth. By appeals to the community at large for that sympathy and support which is due to working women."

The members each contribute the sum of ten dollars annually to the support of the institution. Outside aid is also liberally given. The Union has done much good since its organization. It has compelled dishonest employers to fulfil their contracts with their operatives, and in one single week compelled the payment of the sum of three hundred and twenty-five dollars, which had been withheld by these scoundrels. Out of two hundred complaints against employers in a single year, it secured a fair settlement of nearly two-thirds. In 1869 it procured work for 3379 women and girls. It also looks after friendless and homeless women who seek its assistance, and helps them to secure employment.

[Picture: STEWART'S HOME FOR WORKING WOMEN.]

The "Home for Working Women," No. 45 Elizabeth street, is a massive brick building, six stories high, and will accommodate about five hundred boarders. It is supplied with a reading-room, a reception-room, a parlor, a restaurant, and a laundry. The upper floors are used as dormitories. The beds are neat and tidy, and are arranged in rows and separated from each other by white screens. The rooms are large and well ventilated, and the whole establishment is kept scrupulously clean and in perfect order. One dollar and twenty-five cents is the charge for a week's lodging and washing. The restaurant supplies meals of an excellent quality at an average cost of twenty-five cents. Lodgers are admitted until eleven o'clock at night at the price named. If they enter after that hour, they are charged twenty-five cents extra.

The Children's Aid Society conducts several lodging-houses for girls, one of which is located in Bleecker street, and the other at 27 St. Mark's Place. They furnish beds and meals to girls of all ages, at five cents each, while they have money, and give them for nothing where the applicant is found to be destitute. They have been tolerably successful thus far, and give promise of future usefulness.

There are several other associations, with similar objects, in operation in the city.

Mr. A. T. Stewart is now erecting, on Fourth avenue, a magnificent iron building, which is to be used as a "Home for Working Women." The building extends along the avenue, from Thirty-second to Thirty-third street, a distance of 192 feet, and has a depth of 205 feet. Including the central Mansard roofs, the building is eight stories in height. It is one of the finest edifices in the city, and will be provided with every convenience for the work to which it is destined. It will be capable of accommodating fifteen hundred boarders, and will be conducted on a plan similar to that of the "Home for Working Women" in Elizabeth street. It is not to be conducted as a charity. Each occupant is to pay a fixed sum per week; and it is believed that here this sum will not exceed two dollars a week for board, lodging, and washing.

LXXXII. STREET VENDERS.

It is not known how many stores, or places in which trade is conducted beneath the shelter of a roof, the city contains. They are numerous, but they are not sufficient for the wants of trade. The sellers overflow them and spread out into the streets and by-ways, with no roof above them but the blue sky. Some of these sellers are men, some women, and some mere children. Some have large stationary stands, others roam about with their wares in boxes, bags, or baskets in their hands. They sell all manner of wares. Watches, jewelry, newspapers, fruits, tobacco, cigars, candies, cakes, ice cream, lemonade, flowers, dogs, birds,--in short everything that can be carried in the hand--are sold by the Street Venders. The rich and the poor buy of them. The strolling vagrant picks up his scanty breakfast at one of these stands, and the millionaire buys an apple at another.

The eating and apple stands are mainly kept by women. The most of them are Irishwomen, and the big cap and dirty frill under the quilted bonnet are among the most common signs of such a stand. Some of these stands sell soups, some oysters, some coffee and hot cakes, some ice cream, and some merely fruits and apples. In Wall street they are kept by men, and pies and cakes form the staple articles of trade. Candies and nuts are sold exclusively by many. Such candies as are not to be had of any confectioner in town. Women never sell cigars or tobacco, though many of them never take their pipes from their mouths during business hours. Some of them offer ladies' hose and gentlemen's socks, and suspenders, yarns, worsted hoods, and gloves. A few women sell newspapers, but these are rapidly giving way to men.

[Picture: STREET VENDERS.]

The newspaper stands are located principally on Broadway, in Wall street, and around the Post Office and the ferries. At some of them only the morning or evening journals are kept, but others offer all the weeklies and the illustrated papers as well.

The venders of cheap neckties and pocket book straps are mostly boys or very young men. They frequent the lower part of Broadway, which is also the favorite haunt of the venders of cheap jewelry. Pocket books of every description are sold at marvellously cheap prices, and photographs are displayed in such lavish quantities that you feel sure that every dealer in them has bankrupted himself in order to afford a free art exhibition to the crowd of little ragamuffins gathered around him. Toys of every contrivance adorn the stands above Canal street. The dealers in these articles are strong, able-bodied men, who prefer to stand on the side walks pulling the strings of a jumping jack, or making contortions with a toy contrived for that purpose, to a more manly way of earning their bread.

The balloon men, the penny whistle and pop gun dealers frequent the upper streets, where they are apt to be seen by children. The lame soldier sets up his stand anywhere, and deals principally in shoe strings, neckties, or in books and papers that no one ever reads. Towards Christmas large booths for the sale of toys are erected on some of the east and west side streets, at which a thriving business in toys and fire-works is carried on.

The Chinese candy and cigar sellers are to be found between the Astor House and the South Ferry. No one ever seems to buy from them, but they continue in the business, and thus afford proof positive that they have their customers.

The dog and bird men haunt the neighborhood of the Astor House and St. Nicholas hotels. They get high prices for their pets. Dogs sell readily. It is the fashion in New York to discourage the increase of families, and to attempt to satisfy the half-smothered maternal instinct by petting these dumb creatures.

Little girls are numerous among the street venders. They sell matches, tooth-picks, cigars, newspapers, songs and flowers. The flower-girls are hideous little creatures, but their wares are beautiful and command a ready sale. These are made into hand bouquets, and buttonhole bouquets, and command from ten cents to several dollars each. When the day is wet and gloomy, and the slush and the mud of Broadway are thick over everything animate and inanimate, and the sensitive soul shrinks within itself at the sight of so much discomfort, the flower-girls do a good business. The flower-stands then constitute the most attractive objects on the street, and men are irresistibly drawn to them by the sight of their exquisite adornments. It is very pleasant at such times to have a bright, fragrant nosegay in one's buttonhole, or to carry a bouquet to one's home. On such days you may see hundreds of splashed and muddy men on the great thoroughfare, utterly hopeless of preserving any outward semblance of neatness, but each with his nosegay in his buttonhole; and as he glances down at it, from time to time, you may see his weary face soften and brighten, and an expression of cheerfulness steal over it, which renders him proof against even the depressing influences of the mud and the rain.

LXXXIII. THE WHARVES.

No visitor to New York should omit visiting the wharves of the North and East rivers. A day may be profitably spent on the shore of each stream. The docks do not compare favorably with the massive structures of Liverpool, or London, or the other great seaports of the world. They are wretched, half decayed and dirty; but ere long they are to be replaced with a system of magnificent stone and iron piers, which will afford all the desired facilities, and render New York in this respect one of the best provided ports on the globe.

Beginning at the Battery on the North River side, we find first the pier of the famous Camden and Amboy Railway Company, from which passengers and freights are conveyed to the railway by steamer. Above this are the piers of the great European steamship lines, the coast steamers, and the steamboats plying between the city and the neighboring towns. The Boston boats, all of which run to points in Connecticut and Rhode Island, where they make connections with the railways to Boston, are fine steamers. Those of the Narragansett Steamship Company, the Bristol and Providence by name, are the most magnificent steamers in the world. They cost $1,250,000 apiece. They are simply floating palaces, as are also the Albany night boats. The foreign steamers are huge iron vessels, carrying thousands of tons of freight and hundreds of passengers. The sailing of one of these ships always draws a crowd to her pier, and though from five to eight of them leave the port every week, the attraction still continues.

The ferries to Jersey City and Hoboken are all located on this river, and are full of interest to the stranger. The Bethel, or floating chapel for seamen, is also worth visiting. The ice trade of the city is carried on on this front, the principal supply of that article being obtained along the river, about one hundred miles above the city.

[Picture: BOAT STORES.]

The oyster boats, or boat stores, are peculiar to New York. They lie chiefly in the vicinity of Christopher street, and are sources of considerable profit to their owners. The Hay Scales are also curious objects. At the foot of Fifty-fourth street the numerous telegraph lines which connect New York with the States south of it, cross the Hudson. They gain the Jersey shore in the vicinity of the Elysian Fields at Hoboken, and thence continue their way to every part of the States mentioned.

The East River front is the terminus of the ferry lines to Brooklyn, Long Island City, and Hunter's Point. The shipping here consists almost entirely of sailing vessels. The craft plying between New York and the New England towns have their stations here, and here also are the California clippers. The huge Indiamen lie here receiving or discharging cargo. The whole river front is covered with merchandise representing the products of every land under the sun.

The Floating Docks are among the principal sights of the East River, as are also the vast coal and ship yards. This stream will soon he spanned by an immense suspension bridge which is to connect the City Hall in New York with the City Hall in Brooklyn. The total length of the bridge and its approaches is to be 5878 feet. The bridge is to rest on cables, supported by massive stone towers at the water's edge on each side. The span between these towers is to be 1616 feet. From each tower the flooring is to be carried a further distance of 940 feet to the land approaches. The New York approach is to be 1441 feet, and the Brooklyn approach 941 feet in length. The approaches will, in some instances, be on a level with the tops of the houses in the cities through which they pass. The total height of the bridge above the tide is to be 268 feet. The work is now progressing rapidly, and will be completed in about three years.

Accidents are very common in every large port, but the peculiar construction of the New York ferry houses renders the number of cases of drowning doubly great. In order to guard against this, and to afford timely assistance to persons in danger of drowning, "rescue stations" have been established along the water front of the city. There is one at each ferry house, and the others are located at the points where accidents are most likely to occur. These stations are each provided with a ladder of sufficient length to reach from the pier to the water at low tide, with hooks at one end, by means of which it is attached firmly to the pier; a boat hook fastened to a long pole; a life preserver or float, and a coil of rope. These are merely deposited in a conspicuous place. In case of accident, any one may use them for the purpose of rescuing a person in danger of drowning, but at other times it is punishable by law to interfere with them, or to remove them. The station is in charge of the policeman attached to the "beat" in which it is located, and he has the exclusive right in the absence of one of his superior officers to direct all proceedings. At the same time, he is required to comply strictly with the law regulating such service on his part, and to render every assistance in his power. The law for the government of persons using the "rescue apparatus" is posted conspicuously by the side of the implements, as are also concise and simple directions as to the best method of attempting to resuscitate drowned persons. These stations have been of the greatest use since their establishment, and reflect the highest credit upon those who originated and introduced them.

LXXXIV. THE MORGUE.

There stands on the shore of the East River, at the foot of Twenty-sixth street, a massive gray-stone building, known as Bellevue Hospital. Over the lowest door of the front, on the upper side of Twenty-sixth street, is a single word in gilt letters--MORGUE. This door marks the entrance to the Dead House of New York, one of the most repulsive, but most terribly fascinating places in the city. The place is named after the famous dead house of Paris, and the interior is arranged in exact imitation of it, except that it is smaller. It is a gloomy-looking place, this Morgue, and it is always crowded. Bodies found in the streets or in the harbor are brought here for identification. They are kept a certain length of time, usually from twenty-four to forty-eight hours, and if not claimed by relatives or friends, are buried at the expense of the city. Every article of clothing, every trinket, or other means of identification, found with a body, is carefully preserved, in the hope that it may lead to a discovery of the cause of the death.

The room is gloomy and cell-like in appearance. It is about twenty feet square. The floor is of brick tiles, and the walls are rough and heavy. The apartment is divided into two unequal portions by a partition of glass and iron. The smaller portion is used by the public. The remainder is devoted to the purposes of the establishment. Back of the glass screen are four stone tables on iron frames, each with its foot towards the glass. Stretched on these are lifeless naked forms, each covered with a sheet. A stream of cold water, from a movable jet, falls over the lifeless face of each and trickles over the senseless forms, warding off decay until the last moment, in the hope that some one to whom the dead man or woman was dear in life will come and claim the body. A vain hope, generally, for but few bodies are claimed. Nearly all go to the potter's field.

[Picture: THE MORGUE.]

A fearful company, truly, as they lie there, cold and rigid, their ghastly features lighted by the chilly gleams which fall from the windows above. Here is the body of an infant, its little life of suffering over. It was found in an ash barrel in an alley. On the next slab is the form of a man who was evidently well to do in the world. He is a stranger to the city, the Superintendent tells you, and dropped in the streets from apoplexy. His friends will no doubt claim him before the day is over, as the articles found on his person have established his identity. The next table contains the body of a woman. She was young and must have been fair. She was found in the river, and as there are no marks of violence on her person, the presumption is that she sought her own destruction. "Such cases are becoming common," says the Superintendent in his matter of fact way. "They are very sad, but we see too many of them to think them romantic." A shudder comes over you as you gaze at the ghastly occupant of the last table. The dead man was evidently a gentleman, for he bears every mark of a person of good position in life. His purple, swollen features tell you plainly that he was taken from the river. There is a deep wound in his side, and marks of violence are numerous about his head and neck. You gaze at the Superintendent inquiringly, and even that cool, clear-headed official turns a shade paler as he answers, almost under his breath, "Murdered. For his money, doubtless."

On the walls back of the tables are suspended the clothing of the unfortunates, and of others who have preceded them. Maybe some friend will come along and recognize them, and the one who has been missing will be traced to this sad place. They form a strange collection, but they speak chiefly of poverty and suffering.

The dark waters of the rivers and bay send many an inmate to this gloomy room. The harbor police, making their early morning rounds, find some dark object floating in the waters. It is scarcely light enough to distinguish it, but the men know well what it is. They are accustomed to such things. They grapple it and tow it in silent horror past the long lines of shipping, and pause only when the Morgue looms up coldly before them in the uncertain light of the breaking day. The still form is lifted out of the water, and carried swiftly into the gloomy building. It is laid on the marble slab, stripped, covered with a sheet, the water is turned on, and the room is deserted and silent again.

So many come here on their way to their long homes. The average number is about two hundred per year. You can scarcely take up a city newspaper without finding one or more advertisements of persons "lost." Many of them come here. Many are never heard of again. The waters which encompass the city keep well the secrets confided to them, and neither the Morgue nor the Police books can tell the fate of all the missing. Strangers visiting the city often venture into the chosen haunts of crime "to see the sights," and in so doing place themselves in the power of the most desperate and reckless villains. Human life is held so cheap here, and murder has become such a profession, that no respectable person is safe who ventures into these localities. You may often see at the Morgue, where the majority of the bodies show marks of violence, the lifeless forms of those who but a few days before left their pleasant homes in other portions of the country to see the metropolis. A visit to a concert saloon or a dance house, merely from what they consider the most innocent curiosity, has sealed their doom. A glass of drugged liquor has destroyed their power of self-protection, and even without this they have been assaulted. They are helpless, and they have paid with their lives the price of their "innocent curiosity." Then the River and the Morgue complete the story; or perhaps the River keeps its secret, and the dead man's name goes down on the long list of the missing.

Strangers, and all others who would see New York, should content themselves with its innocent sights and amusements. Those who seek to pass beneath the shadow willfully take their lives in their hands.

LXXXV. THE CUSTOM HOUSE.

The Custom House is one of the most prominent and interesting places in New York. It is one of the largest in the country, and is provided with every facility for the prompt despatch of the vast business transacted in it. Five-sixths of all the duties on imports collected in the United States are received here.

The Custom House building was formerly the Merchants' Exchange. It is one of the handsomest structures in the city, and its purchase cost the General Government one million of dollars in gold. The building is constructed of solid granite, with a fine portico and colonnade in front. If is fire-proof throughout. It occupies the entire block bounded by Wall street, Exchange Place, William street, and Hanover street. Its dimensions are a depth of two hundred feet, a frontage of one hundred and forty-four feet, and a rear breadth of one hundred and seventy-one feet. The top of the central dome is one hundred and twenty-four feet from the ground. The main entrance is on Wall street, but there are entrances on every side. The Rotunda occupies the space beneath the central dome, and is one of the finest interiors in the country.

Within the Rotunda are arranged rows of desks, running parallel with the walls. These are occupied by four "deputy collectors," three "chief clerks," five "entry clerks," two "bond clerks," the "foreign clearance clerk" and his assistant, and by those whose duties bring them most commonly in contact with the merchants, shippers, commanders of vessels, etc., in the ordinary routine of the business of the port. The Collector and the higher officials have handsome offices in other parts of the building.

[Picture: THE CUSTOM HOUSE.]

There are about 1100 clerks attached to the Custom House, whose total wages amount to about $3,000,000 per annum. The legal salary of the Collector is $6000 per annum, but his fees and perquisites make up an actual income of five or six times that amount. The Collectorship of this port is the best paying office within the gift of the Government. Colonel Thorpe thus sums up the duties of the various officers of the port:

"The Collector shall receive all reports, manifests, and documents to be made or exhibited on the entry of any ship or vessel; shall record, on books to be kept for that purpose, all manifests; shall receive the entries of all ships or vessels, and of the goods, wares, and merchandise imported in them; shall estimate the amount of the duties payable thereupon, indorsing said amount on the respective entries; shall receive all moneys paid for duties, and take all bonds for securing the payment thereof; shall, with the approbation of the Secretary of the Treasury, employ proper personages--weighers, gaugers, measurers, and inspectors--at the port within his district.

"The Naval Officer shall receive copies of all manifests and entries; shall estimate the duties on all goods, wares, and merchandise subject to duty (and no duties shall be received without such estimate), and shall keep a separate record thereof; and shall countersign all permits, clearances, certificates, debentures, and other documents granted by the Collector. He shall also examine the Collector's abstract of duties, his accounts, receipts, bonds, and expenditures, and, if found correct, shall certify the same.

"The Surveyor shall superintend and direct all inspectors, weighers, measurers, and gaugers; shall visit and inspect the ships and vessels; shall return in writing every morning to the Collector the name and nationality of all vessels which shall have arrived from foreign ports; shall examine all goods, wares, and merchandise imported, to see that they agree with the inspector's return; and shall see that all goods intended for exportation correspond with the entries, and permits granted therefor; and the said Surveyor shall, in all cases, be subject to the Collector.

"The Appraisers' department is simply for the purpose of deciding the market values and dutiable character of all goods imported, so that the imposts can be laid with correctness. Other than this, it has no connection with the Custom House."

There is located at the Battery, an old white building, surmounted by a light tower. This is the Barge office, and is the headquarters of the Inspectors attached to the Surveyor's office, who are under the orders of Mr. John L. Van Buskirk, now nearly 89 years of age, and who has been "Assistant to the surveyor" for many years. The arrivals of all ships are reported from the telegraph station at Sandy Hook, and as soon as it is announced at the barge office that a steamer or ship "from foreign ports" is off soundings, two Inspectors are placed on a revenue cutter, and sent down to take charge of the arriving vessel. From the moment they set foot on the vessel's deck, they are in supreme control of the cargo and passengers. One would think from the manner in which many of them conduct themselves toward passengers, that an American citizen coming home from abroad has no rights but such as the Inspector chooses to accord him. Certainly the joy which an American feels in returning to his own home is very effectually dampened by the contrast which he is compelled to draw between the courtesy and fairness of the customs officials of European lands, and the insolence and brutality of those into whose clutches he falls upon entering the port of New York. The Inspectors examine the baggage of the cabin passengers, collect the imposts on dutiable articles, and send them ashore. They then send the steerage passengers to Castle Garden where they are examined. After this, the ship is allowed to go alongside of her pier, where her cargo is discharged under their inspection, and carted to the Bonded Warehouses of the United States, for appraisement and collection of duties.

Passing goods through the Custom House is a troublesome and intricate undertaking, and most merchants employ a Broker to perform that duty for them. A novice might spend hours in wandering about the labyrinths of the huge building, trying to find the proper officials. The broker knows every nook and corner in the establishment, and where to find the proper men, and moreover manages to secure the good will of the officials so that he is never kept waiting, but is given every facility for the despatch of his business. The fee for "passing an entry" is five dollars. Sometimes a broker will pass fifty different entries in a single day, thus earning $250. Some brokers make handsome fortunes in their business. When there is a dispute between the government and the importer as to the value of the goods or the amount of the duty, the broker's work is tedious and slow. The large importing houses have their regular brokers at stated salaries.

LXXXVI. MISSING.

It is a common and almost meaningless remark, that one has to be careful to avoid being lost in New York, but the words "Lost in New York" have a deeper meaning than the thoughtless speakers imagine. If the curious would know the full force of these words, let them go to the Police Headquarters, in Mulberry street, and ask for the "Bureau for the Recovery of Lost Persons." The records of this bureau abound in stories of mystery, of sorrow, and of crime.

As many as seven hundred people have been reported as "lost," to this bureau, in a single year, and it is believed that this does not include all the disappearances. Many of those so reported are found, as in the cases of old persons and children, but many disappear forever. Others who are recovered by their friends are never reported as found to the bureau, and consequently remain on its books as missing.

When a person is reported "Missing" to this bureau, a description of the age, height, figure, whiskers, if any, color of eyes, dress, hair, the place where last seen, the habits and disposition of the person, is given to the official in charge, who enters it in the register. When the returns of the Morgue, which are sent to the Police authorities every twenty-four hours, are received, they are compared with the descriptions in the register, and in this way bodies are often identified. Five or six hundred cards with the description of the missing person are printed, and sent to the various police precincts, with orders to the commanding officers to make a vigilant search for the person so described. Advertisements are also inserted in the newspapers describing the missing ones. Many of the estrays are children, and these are usually recovered within twenty-four hours. These little ones usually fall directly into the hands of the police, and are taken at once to the station house. If not claimed there, they are sent at nightfall to Police Headquarters, where they are cared for until their friends come for them.

[Picture: THE FATE OF HUNDREDS OF YOUNG MEN.]

Many of the missing are men--strangers to the city. They have come here on business or for pleasure, and have undertaken to see the sights of New York. They have drowned their senses in liquor, and have fallen into the hands of the thieves and murderers, who are ever on the watch for such as they. They have been robbed and murdered, thrown into the river, from which they sometimes find their way to the Morgue. Or perhaps they have followed some street walker to her den, there to fall victims to the knife or club of her accomplice. The river is close at hand, and it hides its secrets well. Year after year the same thing goes on, and men pay with their lives the price of their impure curiosity. The street walker still finds her victim ready to follow her to her den, for "he knoweth not that the dead are there: and that her guests are in the depths of hell. He goeth after her straightway, as an ox goeth to the slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the stocks. Till a dart strike through his liver, and knoweth not that it is for his life. She hath cast down many wounded; yea, many strong men have been slain by her. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death."

Year after year the waters cast up their dead, and the Morgue is filled with those who are known to the police as "missing." Men and women, the victims of the assassin, and those who are tired of life, find their way to the ghastly tables of the dead house; but they are not all. There are long rows of names in the dreary register of the police against which the entry "found" is never written. What has become of them, whether they are living or dead, no one knows. They were "lost in New York," and they are practically dead to those interested in knowing their fate. Year after year the sad list lengthens.

In many a far off home there is mourning for some loved one. Years have passed away since the sorrow came upon these mourners, but the cloud still hangs over them. Their loved one was "lost in New York." That is all they know--all they will ever know.

Footnotes.

{78} Samuel J. Tilden's speech.

{86} The Committee of citizens consisted of the leading merchants of New York--such men as Royal Phelps, Robert Lenox, P. Bissinger, Paul N. Spofford, Samuel Willets, H. B. Claflin, Seth B. Hunt, T. F. Jeremiah, R. L. Cutting, W. A. Booth, Jas. Brown, B. L. Solomon, Courtlandt Palmer, J. K. Porter, W. E. Dodge, T. W. Pearsall.

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