idual, careless of myself, my interests, my fame and fortune?

Jack Slack and I, arm-in-arm, entered Broadway, and proceeded at a
leisurely pace up that noble avenue. Many a courtezan did we meet, and
many a watchman did we salute with the compliments of the season. (There
were no _Brazen Stars_,[B] nor _M.P.'s_, then.) One lady of the pave,
whom my companion addressed in terms of complimentary gallantry,
said--"Little boy, go home to your mother and tell her she wants you!"

I am now about to make a humiliating confession, but I must not shrink
from it, inasmuch as I sat down with the determination of writing "the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." I allowed Jack to
persuade me to accompany him on a visit to a celebrated establishment in
Leonard street--a house occupied by accommodating ladies of great
personal attractions, who were not especially virtuous. That was of
course my first visit to a house of ill-fame; and without exactly
comprehending the nature of the place and its arrangements, I was deeply
impressed with the strangeness and novelty of everything that surrounded
me. The costly and elegant furniture--the brilliant chandeliers--the
magnificent but rather _loose_ French prints and paintings--the
universal luxury that prevailed--the voluptuous ladies, with their bare
shoulders, painted cheeks, and free-and-easy manners--the buxom,
bustling landlady, who was dressed with almost regal splendor and wore a
profusion of jewelry--the crowd of half-drunken gentlemen who were
drinking wine and laughing uproariously--all these things astonished and
bewildered me. My friend Jack appeared to be well known to the inmates
of the house, with whom he seemed to be an immense favorite.
Having--much to my dissatisfaction and disgust--introduced me to a lady,
he took possession of another one, and called for a couple of bottles of
wine. Jack and his lady were evidently upon the most intimate and
affectionate terms, while my female companion seemed inclined to be very
loving, but I did not appreciate her advances, being altogether
unaccustomed to such things. The champagne was brought, and I was
persuaded to drink freely of it. The consequence was that I soon became
helplessly intoxicated. I can indistinctly remember the dancing lights,
the popping of champagne corks--the noise, the confusion, the thrumming
of a piano, and the boisterous laughter--and then I fell into a
condition of complete insensibility.

W