versified by some trim criminals in dark blue. Putting
apparel aside, these accessions do not seem greatly to improve the
respectability of the life below-stairs.

There is a very tall man, who generally manages to take his exercise at
a different hour from the common herd: when he does mix with them, his
well-cut clothes and spotless linen make a strange contrast with the
squalor round him. He seems perfectly contented with his present lot; he
is always humming snatches of song, or chanting right lustily: he speaks
loud and freely with the few to whose converse he condescends; and there
is a gay recklessness about his whole bearing almost too ostentatious to
be natural. Before long you notice one peculiarity. Speaking or
listening--sitting or standing--walking or resting--his long, white,
lissom fingers are never still; they cannot handle the commonest object
without betraying a swift, subdued dexterity. Look closer yet, and all
his glib, sham-soldier talk will not deceive you. That gallant belongs
to a great army, whose spoils--if not bloodless--must be won with knife
and pistol, instead of rifle and sabre; to an order whose squires are
often knighted with no gentle _accolade_--an order, the date of whose
foundation neither herald nor historian knows, but which must last while
Christendom shall endure--the Unholy Order of Industry.

The professional gamblers, here, far outnumber the turfites of England,
and they apply themselves to their business from early youth with far
more exclusive pertinacity. The richest field for their talent is
barren, now that the highroad of the Mississippi is closed; but still in
every city of importance, North or South, he who would "fight the
tiger," need not wander far without discovering his den. In Richmond,
especially, the play never was so desperate and deep. It is unnecessary
to say towards which side the sympathies and interests of the mercurial
guild tend. The cunning Yankee was ever too prudent to risk much of his
hard-earned gold on the chance of a card, fairly or unfairly turned: it
is only the planter, on whom wealth flows in while he sleeps, that
tempts Fortune with a daring, near which the recklessness of the Regency
seems cautious and tame.

It is not strange that the captive knight should accept his present
position so cheerfully. Here, he enjoys every luxury that money can buy,
and whithersoever he may be consigned, he is sure to fall on his feet;
for it matters little