were for the most part cracked, and some had lost much of their
glass. The accommodation for drinkers consisted of marble-topped
tables, old and worn and stained with the dirt which was characteristic
everywhere of the foul den; but there was nothing but boards beneath
one's feet; and the wretched bar at the uppermost end of the chamber
was no more than a plain deal bin with a high stool behind it for the
serving man; he being a great negro, grotesquely attired as a man of
fashion. Indeed, had not the whole place been so threatening, I should
have paused to laugh at this dusky scoundrel, whose white hat sat
jauntily on the side of his woolly head, and whose well-cut black coat
was ornamented with a great bunch of white flowers. But there was evil
in this man's face, and in the faces of the others who sat close-packed
on the faded couches; and when I had paused for a moment to take
reckoning of the room, I passed quickly to a bench near the door, and
there sat wedged against a fair-haired seaman, whose look stamped him
to be a Russian.

The scene was very new to me. I had heard of these drinking dens in
that low quarter of New York called the Bowery; but my American friends
had cautioned me often to have no truck with them should I visit their
city. They spoke of the poor regard for life which prevailed there; of
murders committed with an impunity which was as astounding as it was
impossible for the police to suppress; of mysterious disappearances,
mysterious alone in the lack of knowledge as to the victim's end; and
they conjured me, if I would see such things, at least to go under the
escort of the police. All this I had paid scant attention to at the
time; but the reality was before me with its grim terror. The room was
filled with the scum of sea-going humanity; foul smoke from foul pipes
floated in choking clouds to the dirt-begrimed ceiling; great brown
pots of strong drink were emptied as though their contents had been
milk; horrid blasphemies were uttered as choice dishes of speech;
ribald songs rose in giant discord as the spirit moved the singers. Now
and again, betwixt the shouting and the singing, a young girl, whose
presence in such a company turned my heart sick, played upon a harp,
while to serve the crew with liquor there was a mahogany-faced hag whom
the men addressed as "Mother Catch." An old crone, bent and doubled
like a bow, yet vigorous in her work, and shuffling with quick steps as
she laid down th