n until he is satisfied, or is
insensible.

They are very fond of cards. Those used by them are brought from China,
and are curiosities. They are about one inch in width and five inches
long, and are gorgeously painted with old time Chinese men and women. To
each card there is attached a certain value. The cards are divided into
six lots of equal size. Each of the two players chooses one of these
packs alternately. The first player places a card on the table, and his
opponent places another immediately across it. The others are placed
obliquely to these, in the form of a star, and each player scores the
value of his card as he lays it down. The game is won by the player who
has the largest score.

Altogether, in spite of the misconduct of a few, the Chinese of New York
are, barring their bigamous affection for the Irish women, a very
innocent and well-behaved class.

LXVIII. STREET CHILDREN.

In spite of the labors of the Missions and the Reformatory Institutions,
there are ten thousand children living on the streets of New York,
gaining their bread by blacking boots, by selling newspapers, watches,
pins, etc., and by stealing. Some are thrust into the streets by
dissolute parents, some are orphans, some are voluntary outcasts, and
others drift here from the surrounding country. Wherever they may come
from, or however they may get here, they are here, and they are nearly
all leading a vagrant life which will ripen into crime or pauperism.

The newsboys constitute an important division of this army of homeless
children. You see them everywhere, in all parts of the city, but they
are most numerous in and about Printing House Square, near the offices of
the great dailies. They rend the air and deafen you with their shrill
cries. They surround you on the sidewalk, and almost force you to buy
their papers. They climb up the steps of the stage, thrust their grim
little faces into the windows, and bring nervous passengers to their feet
with their shrill yells; or, scrambling into a street car, at the risk of
being kicked into the street by a brutal conductor, they will offer you
their papers in such an earnest, appealing way, that, nine times out of
ten, you buy from sheer pity for the child.

The boys who sell the morning papers are very few in number. The
newspaper stands seem to have the whole monopoly of this branch of the
trade, and the efforts of the newsboys are confined to the afternoon
j