se.

I had a little adventure that night going down the Strand. At Bow
street, on the corner, is the "Gaiety," a famous drinking saloon,
flooded with light inside and out, with more than a half-dozen handsome
barmaids. Barmaids are a great institution in England--that is, they
have never more than one man behind a bar, none at all in the railway
bars. And a fearful source of ruin to the girls, as they are to
thousands of young men--I might say tens of thousands every year. These
girls are chosen for their beauty and attractiveness. Yearly, in London
and in other large cities of England, a "Beautiful Barmaid Show" is one
of the stated features, and is held in some public garden or monster
hall. These exhibitions are wonderfully popular, and thousands flock to
them. Various beauty contests are got up, and all the popular features
of voting, etc., are in vogue. Those of the young women who win the
prizes make their fortunes, for they are at once engaged at high
salaries for the more aristocratic barrooms. Fancy what an attraction
and even fascination the gin palace with lovely girls behind the bar
must have to the youth of a great city. Many of them strangers, busy
during the day, but with nothing to do at night, with the choice of the
street or a sombre room, but sure of a sweet smile of welcome from a
fascinating woman in the barrooms. How easily and how naturally, too,
does a young man become ensnared. But how if he has no money? No smiles
and no welcome for him! And then what a temptation to help himself to
his master's cash!

Happy for our country that our laws forbid women entering that
occupation!

While standing in the brilliant light of the Gaiety, watching the
thronging crowd of passers-by, with its sprinkling of unfortunates, I
saw one poor, bedraggled creature, wan-faced and hollowed-eyed, with
hunger and despair imprinted on every feature. Looking sharply at her
she caught my eye, and, crossing the street, she spoke to me. The poor
thing looked as if she had been dragged through all the gutters of
London. She said that herself and her baby were actually starving--that
her husband had been out of work thirteen weeks and had then deserted
her, owing twelve weeks' rent, and the landlady had just told her that
unless she paid her some rent before 9 o'clock that night she would be
turned out with her baby into the streets.

Those of my readers who have been in London know something of what it
would mean for th