New York

If you pass down Broadway to the main entrance to Trinity Church, and then turn abruptly to your left and cross the street, you will find yourself at the head of Wall street, the great financial centre of America. It is a narrow street, extending from Broadway to East river, and lined with handsome brown stone, marble, and granite buildings. Scarcely a house has less than a score of offices within its walls, and some have very near three times that number.

You can scarcely walk a single block without your attention being drawn to one or more of the class called "street boys." We have already devoted a separate chapter to the musicians, and we must now endeavor to give the reader an idea of the rest of this class.

                     THE NEWSBOYS.

Games of chance of all kinds are forbidden in all the States by laws which prescribe various severe penalties for the offence; but in spite of this prohibition, there is no country in the world where gambling is more common than in our own, and no city in the whole Union where it is carried on, to such an extent, as in New York.

There are several classes of gambling houses in the city, which we shall endeavor to describe in their order.

In almost any New York journal you will find such advertisements as the following:

"An honorable gentleman, established in business, desires for a wife a lady of means and respectability. Address M. J. P., Station D, New York."

"A gentleman of the highest respectability, who has lately come into possession of a large fortune, desires to make the acquaintance of a lady with a view to matrimony. Must be handsome, accomplished, amiable, healthy, and pious, and not over twenty-five. Address Husband, Herald office."

In a side-room of the main hall of the Central Police Headquarters, on the second story, in Mulberry street, is a desk at which sits an old rosy-cheeked, white-headed police officer, named McWaters. McWaters is famous in New York. He is the theatrical critic of the Police Department. His opinions on music and the drama are of weighty authority among members of the force, and, like most critics, he is dogmatic and forcible.

The legitimate business of New York is greater than that of any other place in America. The city being the chief centre of our commerce, offers the greatest advantages of any in the land to persons engaged in trade. Merchants at a distance buy whatever they can here, because they like to visit the place, and can thus unite business with pleasure. Two or three millions of strangers annually visit New York, and while here expend large amounts in purchases. People in other parts of the country attach an additional value to an article because it was purchased in the great city.

After living in New York for a few months, you cannot resist the conclusion that it is a City of Beggars. You meet them at every step, and they follow you into your residence and place of business. A few you know to be genuine, and you give them gladly, but cannot resist the conviction that the majority of those who accost you are simply impostors, as, indeed, they are. Begging is not allowed on the street-cars, in the stages, the ferry-boats, or at any place of amusement, but there is no law against the practice of it on the streets.

Having given the reader a description of the "Wickedest Man in New York," we must now introduce him to Mr. Christopher Burns, or, as he is familiarly called, Kit Burns, the compeer of the noted John Allen.

The first column of the Herald, and a prominent column of nearly all the city papers, bears the above heading. The advertisements in these columns are curiosities in their way. The most confidential communications are inserted here without fear of detection. Where meetings are desirable, and letters would be read by parties interested in preventing such meetings, these personals accomplish the object quickly and without danger. The vilest and most infamous transactions are thus arranged.

Our task is done. We have told, as far as we are capable of telling, the secrets of this great and growing city. Our purpose has been two-fold, to satisfy a reasonable curiosity on the part of those who never have seen, and probably never will see New York, and to warn those who design visiting the city, of the dangers and temptations which await them here.