Another room in the headquarters is called
This is a genuine "curiosity shop". It is filled with unclaimed property of every description, found by or delivered to the police, by other parties finding the same, or taken from criminals at the time of their arrest. The room is in charge of a property, clerk, who enters each article, and the facts connected with it, in a book kept for that purpose. Property once placed in this room is not allowed to be taken away, except upon certain specified conditions. Unclaimed articles are sold, after being kept a certain length of time, and the proceeds are paid to the Police Life Insurance Fund.
When a man applies for a position in the police force, he has to show proofs of his good character and capacity before he can be employed. As soon as he is appointed, he is provided with a uniform, assigned to a precinct, and put on duty. For one month after his appointment he is required to study the book of laws for the government of the force, and to be examined daily in these studies by Inspector James Leonard; who is in charge of the "Class of Instruction." These examinations are continued until the recruit is found proficient in the theoretical knowledge of his duties.
The following extract from the Metropolitan Police Law will show the care taken of the men:—
If any member of the Metropolitan Police Force, whilst in the actual performance of duty, shall become permanently disabled, so as to render his dismissal from membership proper, or if any such member shall become superannuated after a ten years' membership, a sum of not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars, as an annuity, to be paid such member, shall become chargeable upon the Metropolitan Police Life Insurance Fund. If any member of the Metropolitan Police Force whilst in the actual discharge of his duty, shall be killed, or shall die from the immediate effect of any injury received by him, whilst in such discharge of duty, or shall die after ten years' service in the force, and shall leave a widow, and if no widow, any child or children under the age of sixteen years, a like sum, by way of annuity, shall become chargeable upon the said fund, to be paid such widow so long only as she remains unmarried, or to such child or children so long as said child, or the youngest of said children, continues under the age of sixteen years.
We do not claim, in what we have written, that the police of this city are perfect, but we do maintain that they are better than those of any other American city.
In New York, poverty is a great crime, and the chief effort of every man and woman's life, is to secure wealth. Society in this city is much like that of other large American cities, except? that money is the chief requisite here. In other cities poor men, who can boast of being members of a family which commands respect for its talents or other good qualities, or who have merit of their own, are welcomed into what are called "select circles" with as much warmth as though they were millionaires. In New York, however, men and women are judged by their bank accounts. The most illiterate boor, the most unprincipled knave, finds every fashionable door open to him without reserve, while St. Peter himself, if he came "without purse or scrip," would see it closed in his face. Money makes up for every deficiency in morals, intellect, or demeanor.
Nor is this strange. The majority of fashionable people have never known any of the arts and refinements of civilization except those which mere wealth can purchase. Money raised them from the dregs of life, and they are firm believers in it. Without education, without social polish, they see themselves courted and fawned upon for their wealth, and they naturally suppose that there is nothing else "good under the sun."
The majority of the dwellers in the palaces of the great city, are persons who have risen from the ranks. This is not said to their discredit. On the contrary, every intelligent person takes pride in the fact that in this country it is in the power of any one to rise as high as his abilities will carry him. The persons to whom we refer, however, affect to despise this. They take no pride in the institutions which have been so beneficial to them, but look down with supreme disdain upon those who are working their way up. They are ashamed of their origin, and you cannot offend one of them more than to hint that you knew him a few years ago as a mechanic, or shop-keeper.
Some of the "fashionables" appear very suddenly before the world. A week ago, a family may have been living in a tenement house. A sudden fortunate speculation on the part of the husband, or father, may have brought them enormous wealth in the course of a few days. A change is instantly made from the tenement house to a mansion on Fifth or Madison Avenue. The newly acquired wealth is liberally expended in "fitting up," and the lucky owners of it suddenly burst upon the world of fashion as stars of the first magnitude. They are courted by all, and invitations to the houses of other "stars" are showered upon them. They may be rude, ignorant, uncouth in their manners, but they have wealth, and that is all New York society requires. They are lucky if they retain their positions very long. A few manage to hold on to the wealth which comes to them thus suddenly, but as a general rule those who are simply "lucky" at the outset find Dame Fortune a very capricious goddess, and at the next turn of her wheel, pass off the stage to make room for others who are soon to share their fate.
This element is known in the city as "The Shoddy Society." During the time of the oil speculations, many persons were suddenly and unexpectedly made rich by lucky ventures in petroleum lands and stocks, and the shoddy element was in its glory; but now other speculations are found to recruit the ranks of this class. Wall street is constantly sending fresh "stars" to blaze on Fifth Avenue, and ruthlessly sweeping away others to make room for them.
The "Shoddy" element is by no means confined to those who make fortunes rapidly, or by speculations. There are many who rise very slowly in the world, and who when blessed with fortune throw themselves headlong into the arms of "Shoddy."
It is not difficult to recognize these persons. They dress not only handsomely, but magnificently. Indeed they make up in display what they lack in taste. They cover themselves with jewels, and their diamonds, worn on ordinary occasions, might, in some cases, fairly rival the state gems of European potentates. Their red, hard hands, coarse faces, vulgar manners, and loud, rude voices, contrast strikingly with the splendor with which they surround themselves. They wear their honors uneasily, showing plainly how little accustomed they are to such things. They look down with disdain upon all less fortunate in wealth than themselves, and worship as demi-gods those whose bank account is larger than their own. They have little or no personal dignity, but substitute a supercilious hauteur for it.
The following incident will show how money is worshipped in New York: A gentleman, now one of the wealthiest men of the city, some years ago found himself well off in worldly goods. He was the possessor of one million of dollars. He was living at that time in a modest house, in a modest street, and was anxious to get into society. In order to do this, he resolved to give a ball, and invite the wealthiest and oldest families in New York. These people were his customers in business; and he supposed they would not object to receiving his hospitality. He was, unlike most of those who worship society, a man of real merit. His invitations were issued, and at the appointed time his mansion was made ready for a magnificent entertainment, but, though the family waited, and the rooms were kept lighted until the "wee hours of the morning," not a single one of those, to whom the invitations were sent, put in an appearance during the evening. The mortification of the would-be host and family, was intense, and it is said that he swore a mighty oath that he would acquire wealth and luxury, sufficient tocompelthe intimacy of those who had scorned him because he was less fortunate than themselves. He kept his word, and today he stands at the head of that class to which he once aspired in vain.
A work recently published in Paris gives the following account of the topics discussed at a "shoddy" ball:
Following the advice of my companion, I listened to the gentlemen who were idling through the rooms. Everywhere that word 'dollar,' constantly repeated, struck upon my ear. All conversation had for its subject mercantile and financial transactions; profits, either realized, or to be realized, by the speakers, or the general prospect of the market. Literature, art, science, the drama, those topics which are discussed in polite European society, were not even alluded to. Another peculiarity I noticed—namely, the practice of self- commendation and praise. Egotism seemed to permeate the mind of everybody—the word 'I' was constantly on the lips of the speakers.
A ball or a party is the place to bring out the votaries of fashion. They crowd thesalonsof the host or hostess. Frequently they pay little attention to their entertainers, except to ridicule their awkwardness and oddities, conscious all the while that similar remarks will be made about them when they throw open their own houses to their friends.
The opera draws them out in crowds, especially theBouffe. Few understand the French or Italian languages, few are proficients in music, but they go because "it is the thing, you know." Opera bouffe is very popular, for those who cannot understand the language are generally quick enough to catch or appreciate the indecency of the plot or situations. The more indecent the piece, the more certain it is of a long run.
Few fashionable women have time to attend to their families. These are left to the mercy of hirelings. The titles of wife and mother are becoming merely complimentary. They are ceasing to suggest the best and purest types of womanhood. That of mother is becoming decidedly old fogyish, and to-day your fine lady takes care that her maternal instincts shall be smothered, and that her family shall not increase beyond a convenient number. Children grow up in idleness and extravagance, and are unfitted for any of the great duties of life. They are taught to regard wealth as the only thing to be desired, and they are forced up as rapidly as possible to join the ranks of the fast young men and women of New York, who disgrace what are called our "upper circles."
Extravagance is the besetting sin of New York society. Money is thrown away. Fortunes are spent every year in dress, and in all sorts of follies. Houses are furnished and fitted up in the most sumptuous style, the building and its contents often being worth over a million of dollars.
[Illustration: A Fashionable Thief—Shoplifting.]
People live up to every cent of their incomes, and often beyond them. It is no uncommon occurrence for a fine mansion, its furniture, pictures, and even the jewels and clothes of its occupants, to be pledged to some usurer for the means with which to carry on this life of luxury. Each person strives to outdo the rest of his or her acquaintances. The rage for fine houses and fine clothes is carried to an amazing extent, and to acquire them, persons of supposed respectability will stoop to almost any thing. Of late years, a number of fashionable ladies have been detected in dry-goods stores in the act of purloining fine laces, embroideries, and other goods, and concealing them under their skirts.
Two or three years ago the fashionable world was thrown into a state of excitement by the marriage of a Fifth Avenue belle to a gentleman of great wealth. The night before the wedding the bride's presents, amounting to a small fortune in value, were exhibited to a select circle of friends. Amongst the various articles was a magnificent diamond necklace, the gift of the groom, which attracted universal attention. After the guests departed, the bride-elect, before retiring for the night, returned to take a parting glance at her diamonds. To her horror, they were missing. The alarm was given, and a search was made. The jewels could not be found, however, but a small kid glove—a lady's—was discovered lying on the table. The bride's father was a sensible banker, and he at once "hushed up" the affair, and put the glove and the case in the hands of an experienced detective. In a few weeks the thief was discovered. She proved to be the wife of a wealthy merchant. She had stolen the diamonds with the intention of taking them to Europe to have them reset. In consequence of the return of the jewels, and the social position of the thief, the matter was dropped.
Only wealthy marriages are tolerated in New York society. For men or women to marry "beneath" them is a crime society cannot forgive. There must be fortune on one side. Marriages for money are directly encouraged. It is not uncommon for a man who has made money to make the marriage of his daughter the means of getting the family into society. He will go to some young man within the pale of good society, and offer him the hand of his daughter and a fortune. The condition on the part of the person to whom the offer is made is, that he shall use his influence to get the bride's family within the "charmed circle." Such proposals are seldom refused.
When a marriage is decided upon, it is the bounden duty of the happy pair to be married in a fashionable church. To be married in or buried from Grace Church is the desire of every fashionable heart. Invitations are issued to the friends and acquaintances of the two families, and no one is admitted into the church without such a card. Often "no cards" are issued, and the church is jammed by the outside throng, who profane the holy temple by their unmannerly struggles to secure places from which the ceremony can be viewed. Two clergymen are engaged to tie the knot, a single minister being insufficient for such grand affairs. A reporter is on hand, who furnishes the city papers with the full particulars of the affair. The dresses, the jewels, the appearance of the bride and groom, and the company generally, are described with a slavishness that is disgraceful.
If the wedding is at Grace Church, Brown, the "great sexton," is in charge of all the arrangements. He understands every detail connected with such an affair, and will not allow any one to interfere with him. A wedding over which he presides is sure to be a success. It is needless to say he has his time well taken up with such engagements. At weddings and at parties, Brown makes out the list of persons to be invited. He allows no interference. He knows his invitations will be accepted, and as he knows who is in town, both stranger and resident, he can always make out a full list. He directs every thing, and carries his arrangements out with the decision and authority of an autocrat. The Lenten Season is his bugbear. It is fashionable to observe Lent in New York, and funerals are then the only opportunities for the display of his peculiar talents. These he makes as interesting as possible. He charges a liberal price for his services, and is said to have amassed considerable money.
As it is the ambition of every one to live fashionable, it is their chief wish to be laid in the grave in the same style. Undertakers at fashionable funerals are generally the sexton of some fashionable church, that, perhaps, of the church the deceased was in the habit of attending. This individual prescribes the manner in which the ceremony shall be carried out, and advises certain styles of family mourning. Sometimes the blinds are closed and the gas lighted. The lights in such cases are arranged in the most artistic manner, and every thing is made to look as "interesting" as possible.
A certain fashionable sexton always refuses to allow the female members of the family to follow their dead to the grave. He will not let them be seen at the funeral at all, as he says "it's horridly vulgar to see a lot of women crying about a corpse; and, besides, they're always in the way."
After the funeral is over, none of the bereaved ones can be seen for a certain length of time, the period being regulated by a set decree. They spend the days of their seclusion in consultations with theirmodiste, in preparing the most fashionable mourning that can be thought of; in this they seem to agree fully with a certain famousmodiste, who declared to a widow, but recently bereaved, that "fashionable and becoming mourning issocomforting to a person in affliction."
Hollow as it is, Shoddy in New York has its romances. One of the most striking of those which occur to us is the story of a family which we shall designate by the name of Swigg. There will, doubtless, be those who will recognize them.
If Mr. and Mrs. Ephraim Swigg had a weakness for any thing it was for being considered amongst that "select and happy few," known to the outside world as "the upper ten." Mr. Swigg had wealth, and Mrs. Swigg meant to spend it. She could not see the use of having money if one was not to use it as a means of "getting into society;" and though she contented herself with being thus modest in her public expressions, she was, in her own mind, determined to make her money the power which should enable her toleadsociety. She meant to shine as a star of the first magnitude, before whose glories all the fashionable world should fall. She would no longer be plain Mrs. Ephraim Swigg, but the great and wealthy Mrs. Swigg, whose brilliancy should eclipse any thing yet seen in Gotham. Oh! she would make Fifth Avenue turn green with jealousy. There was only one difficulty in the way—Mr. Swigg might not be willing to furnish the sum necessary for the accomplishment of this grand purpose: still she would attempt it, trusting that when he had fairly entered upon the joys of fashionable life, he would be too much charmed with them to begrudge "the paltry sums" necessary to continue them.
Mr. and Mrs. Swigg had not always enjoyed such advantages. There was a time when the lady might have been seen in a market stall, where her robust beauty drew to her crowds of admirers of doubtful character. She had made a wise choice, however, and after looking coldly upon these swains, had bestowed her hand upon Ephraim Swigg, a rising young butcher, who sold his wares in the same market. To be sure, Mr. Swigg was not a beauty, nor even as handsome as the plainest of the admirers she had cast aside; but he had a more substantial recommendation than any of them. He was the owner of a lucrative business, and had several thousands laid by in hard cash. So, influenced by these considerations, Miss Polly Dawkins became Mrs. Ephraim Swigg. In justice to her, be it said, she made a good wife. He was equally devoted, and they were genuinely happy. They had one child, a daughter, who, as she grew up, bade fair to ripen into a very pretty woman.
They prospered steadily, and matters went on smoothly with them until the rebellion startled the men of means with a vague fear for the safety of their worldly possessions; then Mr. Swigg, reckoning over his property, found himself possessed of a handsome fortune. He watched the course of affairs anxiously until the great disaster at Bull Run, and then, like a good patriot, set to work to see how he could help the country out of its difficulties. Mr. Swigg's patriotism was of the substantial kind—he derived the chief benefit from it. He bethought himself of taking out a contract for supplying the Army of the Potomac with cattle and other necessaries. He put his scheme into execution, and, like every thing he attempted, it was successful. The army was fed, and towards the close of the year 1864 Mr. Swigg found himself worth three millions of dollars.
Of course, with all this to "back" them, the Swiggs at once became people of note. Their entrance into society was easy enough, and no one was sufficiently impolite to remember their past lives against them. Mr. Swigg's coarse red face was attributed to his fine health, his rudeness of manner was called eccentricity, and his frequent breaches of etiquette were passed over in polite silence. Mrs. and Miss Swigg got on better. The mamma was naturally a shrewd woman, and she quickly adopted herself to the requirements of New York society, which are very few and simple to one who has two or three millions at command. The daughter had enjoyed greater advantages than her parents; she had been trained in the best schools, and as far as her naturally weak mind was capable of doing so, had profited by the efforts of her teachers. She was a weak and silly girl, and was indulged in every whim and caprice by her parents. She was nineteen years old, and having fulfilled the promise of her youth, was indeed a handsome girl. Of course she was a belle, the sole heiress of three millions could be nothing else, were she as ugly as Hecate.
Mrs. Swigg had reasoned correctly. With all his shrewdness and good sense, her liege lord shared her own weakness for high life, and readily complied with all her requests for money. He was not a stingy man at heart, and he was really glad to see his wife and daughter doing so well. Indeed they were all very good people—only their sudden rise in the world had turned their heads.
Mr. Swigg purchased an elegant mansion on Fifth Avenue, which some broken down patrician offered for sale, and the family commenced their fashionable career in a blaze of glory. They had one of the finest establishments in the city; they gave splendid entertainments, and the young bloods soon found that they could enjoy themselves at the Swigg levees very much as they pleased, as their host and hostess were too glad to see them, to criticize their conduct very closely. The worthy couple counted many celebrities amongst their guests. There were generals, both major and brigadier, colonels and captains in abundance, and occasionally some dark-skinned, bewhiskered foreigner, who rejoiced in the title of count, marquis, or lord, and who looked more like he had passed his days in the galleys, than in the courts of the old world. The warmest welcome of the host and hostess, especially the latter, was reserved for these gentlemen. Between the man in the blue and gold of his country's livery, who had daily perilled his life for the perpetuity of the institutions that had made the fortunes of the Swiggs, and the titled, suspicious-looking foreigner, of whom they knew nothing with certainty, the good people never hesitated. The preference was given to the latter.
One of these gentlemen was especially welcome. This was the Baron Von Storck, who claimed to be an Austrian nobleman of great wealth. In support of his assertion, when he appeared at fashionable entertainments, he covered the front of his coat with ribbons of every hue in the rainbow. He made his appearance in New York society almost simultaneously with the Swiggs, and from the first, devoted himself particularly to them or to Miss Arabella, the heiress of the three millions.
As might have been expected, in the course of a few months the Baron proposed for the hand of Miss Arabella, to the great delight of papa and mamma, and the 'young people' were formally engaged. After this the young lady and her mother constantly amused themselves with writing the future title of the former, 'just to see how it looked.' Such a piece of good fortune could not be kept secret; and Miss Arabella was the object of the envy of scores of damsels who had been trying in vain to ensnare the elegant foreigner in their own nets, which were not so heavily baited.
One morning the Baron waited upon Mrs. Swigg, and producing an enormous document, written in German, and furnished with a huge red seal stamped with an eagle, informed her that the paper was a peremptory order from his Government, which he had just received, commanding him to return home at once, as his services were needed. He added that he could not disobey the command of his sovereign, and asked that his marriage with Arabella might take place at once, so that they might sail for the old world in the next Bremen steamer.
Mr. Swigg was summoned, and the matter laid before him. At first he hesitated, for he did not like so much haste; but his wife and daughter at last wrung a reluctant consent from him, and the marriage was solemnized with great splendor at Grace Church, the inevitable Brown declaring, as usual, he had never experienced so much satisfaction in his life.
Mr. Swigg, like a good father, settled half a million of dollars upon his daughter. The Baron had expected more, but the old man's shrewdness came to his aid in this instance, and he declared to his wife that this was money enough to risk at one time. His suspicions were very vague, and they were roundly denounced by his better half. He held his tongue, and after the marriage handed the Baron bills of exchange on Paris and Vienna for the five hundred thousand. Herr Von Storck, on his part, formally delivered to his father-in-law a deed, drawn up in German, (and which bore a wonderful likeness to the letter of recall he had shown Mrs. Swigg,) in which he said he settled a handsome estate near Vienna upon his bride. He apologized for not making her the usual present of diamonds, by saying that his family jewels were more magnificent than any thing that could be found in New York, and that he was afraid to risk their being sent across the ocean. They awaited his bride in his ancestral home. The parents expressed their entire satisfaction, and begged that he would not mention "such trifles."
The "young couple" were to sail on the second day after their marriage; and, at the appointed time, the new baroness awaited her husband, with packed trunks. He had gone out early in the morning to wind up his business at the Austrian Consulate. The steamer was to sail at noon, and as the hour drew near, and the Baron did not appear, the fears of Papa Swigg began to be aroused. Two, three, four o'clock, and yet no Baron Von Storck. Terror and dread reigned in the hearts of the Swigg family.
Towards five o'clock, a policeman, accompanied by a coarse-looking German woman, arrived at the mansion. He informed Mr. Swigg that he had orders to arrest Conrad Kreutzer, alias the Baron Von Storck. Thedenouementhad come at last. The policeman informed the old gentleman that the supposed Baron was simply a German barber, who had been released from the penitentiary but a short time, where he had served a term for bigamy, and that the woman who accompanied him was Kreutzer's lawful wife.
Poor Papa Swigg! Poor Mamma Swigg! Poor Arabella, "Baroness Von Storck!" It was a fearful blow to them, but it was not altogether undeserved.
The successful scoundrel had sailed at noon on the steamer, under his assumed name, carrying with him the bills of exchange, which were paid on presentation in Europe, there being then no Atlantic telegraph to expose his villainy before his arrival in the old world. He has never been heard of since.
His victims were not so fortunate. All New York rang with the story, and those who had tried hardest to bring this fate upon themselves were loudest in ridiculing the Swiggs for their "stupidity;" so that, at last, parents and daughter were glad to withdraw from fashionable life, to a more retired existence, where they still remain, sadder, and decidedly wiser than when their career began. Mr. Swigg takes the matter philosophically, consoling himself with the determination to vote against every foreigner who may 'run for office' in his district. His wife and Arabella, however, still suffer sorely from their mortification, and are firmly convinced that of all classes of European society, the German nobility is the most utterly corrupt.
From the following article, which appeared recently in theEvening Mail, the reader will obtain a clear insight into some of the outside customs of society:
Even the cut of the pasteboard upon which a man announces his name is regulated by fashion. The man who wishes to have his note-paper, envelopes and cards, 'on the square' must know what the mode is. Visiting cards for the present season will be rather larger than formerly, and of the finest unglazed Bristol board. The new sizes will tend rather to the square than otherwise. The shape of the card may be varied, according to taste, the proper adaptation to the size of the lettering being maintained.
[Illustration: Fifth Avenue, near Thirty-Fourth Street.]
Among the various texts in use, nothing will supercede the English script, and those inimitable styles of old English text; the most novel being those with dropped capitals, and the extremely neat, extra- shaded. Visiting cards, with the familiar words denoting the object of the call, will remain in use, to some extent, especially for calls of congratulation or condolence. The wordvisite, on the left hand upper corner, will be engraved on the reverse side. The corner containing the desired word will be turned down, so as to denote the object of the call. The word on the right-hand corner,Felicitation, will be used for visits of congratulation on some happy event, as, for instance, a marriage, or a birth; on the left lower corner, the wordConge, used for a visit previous to leaving town; the other corner is to be markedCondolence. Cards sent to friends before leaving for a long journey, are issued with the addition of P. P. C. in the left hand corner. These cards are inclosed in heavy and elegant, though plain, envelopes, ornamented with a tasteful monogram or initial.
In wedding invitations, all abbreviations, like eve. for evening, will be avoided, as well as P. M.; the word afternoon being preferable. Invitations to ceremonious weddings consist of a square note-sheet, embellished with a large monogram in relief, entwining the combined initials of the bride and groom. The individual cards of both bride and groom must be also inclosed, united with a neat white satin tie; and, in some cases, another card, with reception days for the following month.
A very neat style of card has the customary 'at home' on a note-sheet, a ceremony card, (at fixed hour,) and the united cards of bride and groom, all enclosed in a splendid large envelope, of the very finest texture, with an elaborate monogram, or ornamental initial. Among the neater forms for a quiet wedding at home is the following:
Request the pleasure of M.—-'s company at breakfast, on Wednesday, December 16, at one o'clock. '—Hamilton Square.'
Cards of bride and groom must be inclosed for general invitations. Very simple forms are in the best taste. They may be varied to suit the occasion, either ofdejeuner, dinner reception or evening parties. For example:
Wednesday evening, January 7.'—Fifth Avenue.'Cotillion at 9.'
Or; Soiree Dansante.
Request the pleasure of your company on Monday evening, at 9 o'clock.R.S.V.P.
An afternoon wedding reception may be announced in terms like the following:
Request the pleasure of your company at the wedding reception of their daughter, on Thursday, October 15, from 2 until 4 o'clock.
'—Maple Grove.'Or again:MR. AND MRS. RICHARD WILSON
Request the pleasure of your presence at the marriage ceremony of their daughter Adelaide to Mr. Jones, at Trinity Chapel, on Wednesday evening, October 5, at 8 o'clock. Reception from 9 until 11 o'clock. '—West Hamilton street.'
The mode for private dinners may claim a paragraph. Of late, private dinners have been conducted with great ceremony. The menu, or bill of fare, is laid at each plate, an illuminated monogram embellishing the top of the menu. The list of dishes, tastefully written, and a beautifully adorned illuminated card are laid on each plate, to designate the seat of the particular guest. Another style of these cards is plain white, bound with a crimson or blue edge, and has the wordsBon Appetit,in handsome letters, above the name of the guest, which is also beautifully written in the same original style, or, perhaps, in fancy colored ink.
Acceptance and regret notes are found very useful and convenient on some occasions. The best forms are:
Compliments to Mrs.——, accepting, with, pleasure, her kind invitation for Wednesday evening, January 14, 1869. '——Clinton Place.'
If the note be one of regret, 'regretting the necessity to decline,' is substituted. These blanks are neatly put up in small packages, with proper envelopes.
For billet or note-paper, some new styles of fine Parisian papers have just been introduced, and, for the extreme neatness of the design, or figure, in the paper, have become very fashionable. The different styles in paper and envelopes could scarcely be enumerated. The forms are small, square, and rather large, oblong shape; both folding in a square envelope, with pointed flap. A novelty has just been introduced, in a sheet of paper, so cut as to combine note sheet with envelope.
Monograms will, this season, tend to an enlarged size, besides being more complicated than usual. In many cases, the monograms spell pet names, and sometimes names of several syllables. Illuminated monograms, especially for heading of party or ball invitations, will be greatly sought after. For usual letter writing, monograms in one delicate color, or in white embossed, will be in vogue. These are very stylish, when used on thick English cream laid paper. Names of country residences, in rustic design, are also used at the top of the note sheet. Jockey monograms are formed of riding equipments. Some novelties in this way have recently made their appearance. For those fond of the game of croquet, monograms are formed of the implements of the game; and smokers may have their articles of smoking so arranged as to represent their initials.
New York has long been celebrated for its magnificent entertainments, and especially for its weddings, and wedding breakfasts. On such occasions the guests, unwilling to be outdone by the host in liberality, sometimes vie with each other in presenting the bride elect with costly gifts of every description. One, two, or three rooms, as the case may be, are set apart at every "fashionable wedding," where the presents are displayed and commented upon by the invited guests. It has been frequently suggested by the more prudent members of society that these offerings be entirely suppressed, and that none but the immediate relations should commemorate the day in this wise; but the idea has met with no favor, till of late, when one of our fashionable "Murray Hill princes," took a most determined step toward reform. As it is the only case of the kind on record, a description of the wedding may not be uninteresting. Several hundred invitations were given, and at the appointed hour the parlors were crowded almost to suffocation. The bride was attired in a white marceline silk of most scant proportions; her veil consisted of one breadth of tulle caught in her comb, at the back of her hair; no flowers were worn except a very minute bunch in front of her dress. The groom was attired with like simplicity, thereby attracting considerable attention.
No refreshments were offered to the wearied guests, who gladly bade adieu, and returned to their homes. There was a false hope, raised in the minds of a few, on seeing a large bride cake in one corner, that a glass of wine and a piece of cake might be served; but the illusion was dispelled on questioning the waiter (one only being in attendance), who informed them he had instructions not to cut it! The presents were spread upon a small table, and created not a little astonishment. One five dollar gold piece was laid upon a card, bearing the inscription, "From your affectionate grandfather." A coin of half this value was presented by the "affectionate grandmother," while devoted brothers and sisters testified their affection by the presentation of a gold dollar each. As might be expected, the guests departed early. One lady was unfortunate enough to have ordered her carriage to call for her at midnight. She saw all depart, and then seated herself to await patiently its coming. After awhile a savory smell of oysters, coffee, etc., came floating on the air. With some confusion of manner the members of the family one by one disappeared, and after some delay, the host hesitatingly invited her to partake of some refreshments. She declined, and the family retired to discuss the supper; leaving her to await her carriage alone in the parlor.
If New York has a profusion of gilt and glitter in its high life, it has also the real gold. The best society of the city is not to be found in what are known as "fashionable circles." It consists of persons of education and refinement, who are amongst the most polished and cultivated of the American people. To this class belonged Fennimore Cooper and Washington Irving. It is small, very exclusive, and careful as to whom it admits to its honors. Shoddy and its votaries cannot enter it, and therefore it is decidedly unfashionable.
Leaving Broadway at Leonard or Franklin streets, one finds himself, after a walk of two blocks in an easterly direction, in a wide thoroughfare, called Centre street. His attention is at once attracted by a large, heavy granite building, constructed in the style of an Egyptian temple. This is the Tombs. The proper name of the building is "The Halls of Justice," but it is now by common consent spoken of simply as the Tombs. It occupies an entire square, and is bounded by Centre, Elm, Franklin, and Leonard streets. The main entrance is on Centre street, through a vast and gloomy corridor, the sternness of which is enough to strike terror to the soul of a criminal. Within the walls which face the street, is a large quadrangle. In this there are three prisons, several stories high. One of these is for men, the other for boys, and the third for women. The gallows stands in the prison yard, when there is need for it, all executions of criminals in this city being conducted as privately as possible.
The prison is one of the smallest in America, and is utterly inadequate to the necessities of the city. It was built at a time when New York was hardly half as large as the metropolis of to-day, and is now almost always overcrowded to an extent which renders it fearful. It is kept perfectly clean, its sanitary regulations being very rigid. It is very gloomy in its interior, and is one of the strongest and securest prisons in the world.
[Illustration: The Tombs—City Prison.]
No lights are allowed in the cells, which are very small, but a narrow aperture cut obliquely in the wall, near the ceiling, admits the sunshine, and at the same time cuts off the inmates from a view of what is passing without. Besides these, there are six comfortable cells located just over the main entrance. These are for the use of criminals of the wealthier class, who can afford to pay for such comforts. Forgers, fraudulent merchants, and the like, pass the hours of their detention in these rooms, while their humbler, but no more guilty brothers in crime are shut up in the close, narrow cells we have described. These rooms command a view of the street, so that their occupants are not entirely cut off from the outer world.
The main cell in the prison is a large room, with a capacity for holding about two hundred persons. It is known as the "Bummer's Cell." It is generally full on Saturday night, which is always a busy time for the police. The working classes are paid their weekly wages on Saturday, and having no labor to perform on the Sabbath, take Saturday night for their periodical dissipation, comforting themselves with the reflection that if they carry their revels to too great an excess, they can sleep off the bad effects on Sunday.
From sunset until long after midnight on Saturday, the police are busy ridding the streets of drunken and disorderly persons. As soon as a person is arrested, he is taken to the Toombs, or one of the station houses. It is the duty of the captain in charge of the precinct to lock up every person thus brought in. He has no discretion, and he is often compelled to throw those of whose innocence he is satisfied, into the company of the most abandoned wretches for an entire night. Drunkenness, disorderly conduct, and fighting are the principal charges brought against the Saturday night inmates of the Bummer's Cell. Many visitors to the city, by yielding to the temptation to drink too much liquor, pay for their folly by an acquaintance with the Bummer's Cell. They lose their self control in the splendid gin palaces of the city, and when they recover their consciousness find themselves in a hot, close room, filled with the vilest and most depraved wretches. The noise, profanity, and obscenity, are fearful. All classes, all ages, are represented there. Even little children are lost forever by being immured for a single night in such horrible company. The females are confined in a separate part of the prison. No entreaties or explanations are of the least avail. All must await with as much patience as possible, the opening of the court the next morning.
The Court opens at six o'clock on Sunday morning. It is presided over by Justice Joseph Bowling, a short, thick-set man, with a handsome face, and a full, well-shaped head, indicating both ability and determination. Judge Dowling is still a young man, and is one of the most efficient magistrates in the city. His decisions are quickly rendered, and are generally just. He has a hard class of people to deal with, and this has made him not a little sharp in his manner. A stranger is at once struck with the quick, penetrating power of his glance. He seems to look right through a criminal, and persons brought before him generally find it impossible to deceive him. This has made him the terror of criminals, who have come to regard an arraignment before him as equivalent to a conviction, as the one is tolerably sure to follow the other. At the same time he is kind and considerate to those who are simply unfortunate. Vice finds him an unrelenting foe, and virtue a fearless defender. So much for the man.
As soon as the Court is opened, the prisoners are called up in the order of their arrival during the previous night. Here drunkenness without disorder, and first offences of a minor character, are punished with a reprimand, and the prisoners are discharged. These cases constitute a majority of the arrests, and the number of persons in the dock is soon reduced to a mere handfull. The more serious cases are either held for further examination or sent on trial before a higher court.
All classes of people come to the Justice with complaints of every description. Women come to complain of their husbands, and men of their wives. The Justice listens to them all, and if a remedy is needed, applies the proper one without delay. In most instances, he dismisses the parties with good advice, as their cases are not provided for by the law.
Some of the cases which are brought up before the Tombs Court are deeply interesting. We take the following from the report of the General Agent of the New York Prison Association:
The case referred to is that of a woman indicted for burglary and grand larceny. She was guilty, and she felt and acknowledged it. She had lived in a neighboring city for the last six years, and for the last three years on the same floor with the complainant, and the consequence was they were very friendly and intimate. Her husband sustained a severe injury from a fall, and has since been in declining health, earning nothing for the last eighteen months. At length his mind gave way and his friends advised his removal to the Lunatic Asylum. He had been an inmate for six months, and his wife frequently visited him, always contributing to his wants and comforts. He improved so rapidly that the doctor informed his wife that on the following week, if the weather proved clear and fine, he should discharge him. The wife felt anxious to make her home more than ever cheerful and her husband happy, but she had no means. She thought of the abundance of clothing her neighbor possessed, and that some articles could be spared for a short time, probably without detection; and if she should be detected before she could redeem them, her friend would excuse her. She devised means to enter, and conveyed to the pawnbroker's two parcels of clothing, upon which she realized nine dollars; she made some purchases for the house, redeemed a coat for her husband, and then started for the asylum for the purpose of fetching him to her home. But on her arrival there, the physician told her that he had left a few hours before, that he was well and happy, and that she must keep him so. On her return home the larceny had been discovered, and the property found at the pawnbroker's; it had been pledged in her own name, and where she was well and favorably known. An officer was waiting, and she was taxed with the crime; she had destroyed the duplicate. The complainant gave her into the custody of the officer, but promised to forgive her if all the property was recovered. The husband went to his friends, and they advanced funds to redeem the property. It was returned, and also a hat paid for which had been taken. I carefully examined into this case and all its surroundings. The woman had sustained the reputation of being a sober, industrious, honest person; her state of mind was truly distressing, her greatest fear was that her husband would relapse, and she would be the cause of all his future misery. I submitted all these facts to the district attorney; he could not consent to any compromise, and again referred me to the county judge, who would not yield a tittle. Counsel having been assigned, a plea of guilty of grand larceny was put in by him, and she was remanded for sentence until Saturday. I felt very unhappy at her condition. On Friday evening I endeavored to find the district attorney, but failed; on Saturday morning I wrote him and asked him to concede that she could not be convicted of burglary, and then, was it not very doubtful whether she could be convicted of any thing more than petit larceny? If so, I urged him to consent to the withdrawal of the plea put in by her counsel, and then permit it to be substituted by one of petit larceny. My proposition met with favor; its suggestions were adopted, and the prisoner, instead of ignominy in the State Prison, was sent to the Penitentiary for three months. The woman is now in a situation at work, but her mind is ill at ease, as her husband has not been heard of since her imprisonment.
"A member of an eminent firm in this city," says the gentleman from whose report the above case is taken, "called upon me with a request that I would visit a youth, aged seventeen years, now in the Tombs, charged upon his complaint with embezzling various sums of money whilst in their employ as collecting clerk. He felt anxious I should see him, and then advise what should be done. The next morning I repaired to the prison, and had the youth brought from his cell, when he made the following statement: That he lived and boarded with his widowed mother and sisters in a neighboring city, where also he had taken an active part in all their religious meetings and enterprises. He thinks he experienced a great moral change when first he became a member, and until of late had made religious duties his greatest delight. He had regarded his family as one of the happiest that could be found. Some seven or eight months since he was introduced to the firm referred to, and they engaged his services, agreeing to give him five dollars per week. He was soon appreciated by his employers, and they advanced his salary to seven dollars a week, out of which he paid his mother for board five dollars, and one dollar for his weekly fare on the railroad. This left him but one dollar for his own use. He soon became acquainted with other collecting clerks, with whom he took lunch, first a sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then dinners and dessert.In this way the money of his employers disappeared.He could not charge himself with any one special act of extravagance. He felt, he said, ashamed of himself, and deeply pained before God, and wondered that he could not see and feel before that he has sinned greviously. I now urged him to conceal nothing, but tell the truth, and nothing but the truth, and to pause and consider before he answered the next question I should put to him, as it was a very serious one. 'How long would it take to induce him, with solemn purpose of heart, to resolve, unalterably resolve, never to be guilty of a repetition of crime, never to spend a cent belonging to another?' The penalty for his offence was from one year to five in a State prison. I then begged him to inform me how I should approach his honor the judge, before whom he must be brought if prosecuted. Should I ask the court to show him mercy, and send him but for two years? or would it require a longer sentence to effect a permanent change in his life? He wept distressingly, and said: 'Oh, save me from such a fate, if not for mine, for my mother's sake. Beg and pray of the firm to show me mercy, and I will be careful and honest for the future.' One of the gentlemen called upon me and inquired if I had seen this youth."
[Illustration: Scene in the Tombs Police Court]
I replied that I had. 'Then what do you advise?' I asked if it was known in the house that the lad was a defaulter. 'To none but my partner' he replied. Then, said I, the best advice I am capable of giving is,forgive him, ask the court to discharge him, and take him back again into your office. I am happy to say that my advice was adopted. The youth was discharged, forgiven, and taken back again into the house, and is now performing his duties with alacrity, very grateful to the Association, and more especially to the firm for their noble conduct in this matter. That young man has no doubt been saved from a career of crime.
The prisoners confined in the Tombs are provided with the means of hearing divine service every Sunday. The Roman Catholic clergy have the exclusive privilege of ministering to the spiritual wants of the women and children, and for this purpose have quite a nice little chapel fitted up in the female department of the prison. The Sisters of Charity preside over this part of the prison at all times, and no one is permitted to interfere with them.
The Protestant clergy are permitted to preach to the male prisoners in the main corridor of the prison. The preacher stands on the platform at the upper end of the passage, and the prisoners in their cells can hear him without seeing him. They pay little or no attention to him, but receive their friends in their cells, or employ themselves according to their own fancies during the preaching. The bummers are grouped in the corridor just below the preacher, and are called out from time to time by the keepers, as they are wanted in the court room. The minister is frequently annoyed and embarrassed by the shouts; jeers, and imitations of the prisoners in their cells.
The principal reformatory establishments of New York city are the Penitentiary, on Blackwell's Island, and the House of Refuge, devoted to juvenile criminals, on Randall's Island.
The large pile of buildings which forms such a prominent object on Blackwell's Island, known as the Penitentiary, is familiar to most of the residents of New York City, though the every day life of its inmates is practically known only to that class to which they immediately belong.
The Penitentiary, which is under the wardenship of Mr. Fitch, is capable of accommodating about seven hundred and fifty prisoners, but at present their numbers are slightly under five hundred—about three hundred men, and ninety women. The prisoners are divided into classes, the particular dress of each indicating the nature and gravity of their offences, and though amenable to the same laws as to labor and discipline, they work in separate gangs and mess by themselves. They are under the control of twenty-four keepers, each keeper, who is heavily armed, having fifteen men in his charge, whose roll he calls, and for whose absence he is responsible. At six o'clock the prisoners are all paraded to call the roll, at half-past six they have breakfast, consisting of dry bread and a bowl of coffee, and at seven, those who are skilled workmen are told off to the blacksmiths', carpenters', tailors', and weavers' shops, where all necessary repairs to the building and its fittings are done, and the clothing for the prisoners is made; others to labor in the gardens and fields, while the remainder are marched off in two divisions, one to work in the stone quarries at home, the others to be conveyed by the Commissioners' steam vessel Bellevue to the quarries on Ward's Island. The female prisoners are principally occupied in the sewing-room, in the brush-manufactory, in washing clothes, and scrubbing out the cells.
The majority of the prisoners are committed for assault and battery or larceny, for terms varying from one month to four years and a half; those committed for graver offences are confined at Sing Sing; all drunkards, vagrants, and disorderly characters at the workhouse. During the past year two thousand three hundred and fifteen persons were incarcerated for different periods—two thousand one hundred and thirty-nine whites, one hundred and seventy-six blacks. Of these about one third were native Americans, one third Irish, one tenth German, and the remainder of various nationalities. The visitor to the Penitentiary cannot but be struck by the youth of the male prisoners compared with that of the females, the bulk of the males being between fourteen and thirty years of age, the females between twenty-five and fifty. Few young girls find their way here, as in their earlier career they are able to gain enough by a life of prostitution, without committing larceny, and consequently do not resort to it till their charms begin to wear, and the consequent diminution of their means of subsistence from such a source compels them to resort to some other. There is another fact which appears in these statistics of crime, one highly suggestive to the housekeeper. Of the four hundred and eleven female prisoners committed during the past year, no less than three hundred and two were domestic servants, and of these two hundred and forty-one were Irish girls and women.
At twelve o'clock the prison bell rings for dinner. It is a sad sight to stand on the terrace and see the various gangs of men and lads march home from their work, the greater proportion of them fine, sturdy looking young fellows; it is sadder still to see some of them carrying a heavy iron ball and chain slung over the shoulder and attached to a strong iron band locked round the leg immediately above the ankle. These men have tried to escape. Necessary as it may be to adopt such measures to prevent them from repeating the attempt, surely it is unnecessarily cruel to compel these poor creatures to wear their irons at night. Their dinner consists of a can of soup, a plate of meat, and ten ounces of bread. They are allowed one hour, and are then marched back again to their work in the quarries; they have supper, bread and coffee, at five o'clock, and at half-past five they are all locked in their cells, which, though scrupulously clean, are certainly too small (about the size of an ordinary clothes closet), considering that the prisoners have to pass twelve hours out of the twenty-four in them.
On Sunday the sewing-room of the female prisoners is used as a Chapel, the men attending services in the morning, the women in the afternoon; once a month there is service for the Roman Catholic prisoners. The convicts have no privileges; a sharp, intelligent lad may become a hall boy or get employed in the mess room; or a mechanic may be appointed to one of the workshops and so gain some slight relief from the monotony of their lives; but they get no reward, beyond a little tobacco once a week for chewing; smoking is strictly prohibited; once a month they are allowed to be visited by their friends. On entering the building the visitor is forcibly struck by the following inscription over the doorway.
'The way of the transgressor is hard.'
'Such is the greeting to the unfortunate criminal as he puts his foot, often for the first time, within the prison walls. If an inscription be necessary, surely the Department of Public Charities and Correction might have chosen one less harsh in character; one that breathes a larger amount of Christian charity to a poor fellow creature, one that may offer him some small portion of that encouragement which is so essential to his reformation. Some such epigram as 'it is never too late to mend' would be altogether more suitable and far more encouraging.
The Commissioners of Public Charities and Correction, in their last report, made the startling announcement that there are no less than thirty-nine thousand children in the City of New York, growing up in ignorance and idleness. These children, influenced from their cradles by the most terrible surroundings, have no alternative but to become beggars and thieves almost as soon as they can run alone. Thousands of them are orphans, or perhaps worse, for they are often the children of parents who, ignoring the laws of nature, use them for the purpose of furthering their own vicious ends. They live principally in a neighborhood which abounds in lodging-houses for sailors, the lowest class of liquor stores, dancing and concert rooms, and various other low places of amusement; a neighborhood swarming with brothels, whose wretched inmates are permitted to flaunt their sin and finery, and ply their hateful trade openly, by day and night; where at midnight the quarrels, fights, and disturbances, are so noisy and so frequent that none can hope for a night's rest until they are inured by habit; where, night after night, they witness the most desperate encounters between drunken men and women, kicking, biting, and tearing one another's hair out, as they roll together in the gutter, or, as is too often the case, using deadly weapons, and where the crowd, instead of interfering to stop these awful scenes, stand by in a brutal enjoyment of them, abetting and encouraging the principal actors therein. And their homes, what are they? Their fathers, often out of work, are unable to support their families; their clothes, their bedding, their furniture, all gone to the pawn-shop; father, mother, and children, are often compelled to sleep on the bare boards, huddling close together for warmth in one ill-built, ill-ventilated room. Amid their misery, this neglect of the common decencies of life, this unblushing effrontery of reckless vice and crime, what chance have these poor unhappy little children of becoming decent members of society. They are sickly from the want of proper nourishment, vicious from example, ignorant because they do not care to learn, and their parents take no trouble to compel them to do so, and must inevitably grow up only to swell the already fearful sum total of our criminal population. At ten the boys are thieves, at fifteen the girls are all prostitutes.
A system of State reformatories and State apprenticeships on an extensive scale is the only way of grappling with this terrible state of things. Such institutions as the House of Refuge on Randall's Island have done and are doing much, but a dozen such institutions might be established with advantage in the State of New York alone. On Randall's Island the young criminal has the opportunity of acquiring regular habits and learning a useful trade. They are subject to a humane, though strict discipline, and a very large per centage, especially of the boys, do undoubtedly become reformed. This reformatory, a wise combination of school and prison, can accommodate one thousand inmates. There are at present about eight hundred boys, and one hundred and fifty girls on the register. The boys' building is divided into two compartments, the first division, in the one, is thus entirely separated from the second division, in the other compartment. The second division is composed of those whose characters are decidedly bad, or whose offence was great. A boy may, by good conduct, however, get promoted from the second into the first division. As a rule the second division are much older than the first. Each division is divided into four grades. Every boy on entering the Reformatory is placed in the third grade; if he behaves well he is placed in the second in a week, and a month after to the first grade; if he continues in a satisfactory course for three months, he is placed in the grade of honor, and wears a badge on his breast. Every boy in the first division must remain six months, in the second division twelve months in the first grade, before he can be indentured to any trade. These two divisions are under the charge of twenty-five teachers and twenty-five guards. At half-past six o'clock the cells are all unlocked, every one reports himself to the overseer, and then goes to the lavatories; at seven, after parading, they are marched to the school rooms to join in religious exercises for half an hour; at half-past seven they have breakfast, and at eight are told off to the work-shops, where they remain till twelve, when they again parade, previous to going to dinner. For dinner they have a large plate of excellent soup, a small portion of meat, a small loaf of bread, and a mug of water. At one o'clock they return to their work. When they have completed their allotted task they are allowed to play till four, when they have supper. At half-past four they go to school, where they remain till eight o'clock, the time for going to bed. Each boy has a separate cell, which is locked and barred at night. The cells are in long, lofty, well ventilated corridors, each corridor containing one hundred cells. The doors of the cells are all grated, in order that the boys may have light and air, and also be under the direct supervision of the officers, who, though very strict, apparently know well how to temper strictness with kindness. Before going to bed, half an hour is again devoted to religious exercises, singing hymns, reading the Bible, etc. There is a large chapel, where the services are conducted on Sunday, the girls having the gallery to themselves. There is, however, no Catholic service. This, surely, is not right. At the Penitentiary on Blackwell's Island they have service once a month for the Catholics. Of the six hundred and eighty-two children committed from the Courts during the year 1867, no less than four hundred and fourteen were Irish, and in all probability a large proportion of these are Roman Catholics. Institutions of this character should certainly be made as unsectarian as possible.
One of the most interesting, and at the same time, one of the most important features of the Refuge, is the workshop. On entering the shop, the visitor is amused by finding a lot of little urchins occupied in making ladies' hoopskirts of the latest fashionable design; nearly 100 are engaged in the crinoline department. In the same long room, about 50 are weaving wire for sifting cotton, making wire sieves, rat traps, gridirons, flower baskets, cattle noses, etc. The principal work, however, is carried on in the boot and shoe department. The labor of the boys is let out to contractors, who supply their own foremen to teach the boys and superintend the work, but the society have their own men to keep order and correct the boys when necessary, the contractors' men not being allowed to interfere with them in any way whatever. There are 590 boys in this department. They manage on an average to turn out about 2,500 pairs of boots and shoes daily, which are mostly shipped to the Southern States. Each one has a certain amount of work allotted to him in the morning, which he is bound to complete before four o'clock in the afternoon. Some are quicker and more industrious than others, and will get their work done by two o'clock; this gives two hours' play to those in the first division, the second division have to go to school when they have finished till three o'clock, they only being allowed one hour for recreation. The authorities are very anxious to make arrangements to have a Government vessel stationed off the island, to be used as a training-ship for the most adventurous spirits. If this design is carried out it will be a very valuable adjunct to the working of the institution, and will enable the Directors to take in many more boys, without incurring the expense of extending the present buildings. The girls are also employed in making hoop skirts, in making clothes for themselves and the boys, in all sorts of repairing, in washing linen, and in general housework. The girls are generally less tractable than the boys; perhaps this is accounted for by their being older, some of them being as much as five or six and twenty. The boys average about 13 or 14, the girls 17 or 18 years of age. Nearly two thirds of the boys have been boot-blacks, the remainder mostly what are technically known as 'wharf rats.' Some of them are now in the house for the third time; one, a lad only 15 years of age, has passed one year in a juvenile asylum, four years in a reformatory, and is now at Randall's Island. Another has been three times convicted of horse stealing; he would, late at night, ask permission to sleep in a stable; he is a complete cripple, and by attracting sympathy his request was often granted; when every one had left the place he would quietly open the door and lead out the horses. On each occasion that he was convicted he managed to get off with three horses. Another little fellow, only six years old, with a chum, broke into a pipe store, and stole 150 meerschaum pipes; he was however detected while trying to dispose of them. There is a colored lad, about eighteen, who is very amusing; he is a great orator, and addresses the others on all subjects, both general and political. On one occasion, when the Principal ventured to ask him whom he had adopted as his model for speaking, he grandly replied, 'I will have you to know, sir, that I am no servile imitator.' Some of the boys cannot overcome their thieving propensities, but will, even in the Refuge, purloin things that can be of no earthly use to them, if they get the chance. They are very quick and expert. Only a few days ago one of the boys fell down in a fit in the schoolroom; some of the others assisted the teacher to carry him into the open air. The poor fellow had a collection of nick-nacks in one pocket, and about 20 penny pieces in the other, but during the moment that passed in carrying him out both pockets were emptied. The Directors of the house of Refuge, while having a due regard for the well-being of its inmates, very properly take care that they are not so comfortable or so well fed as to lead them to remain longer in the reformatory than necessary. As soon as the boys appear to be really reformed they are indentured out to farmers and different trades. In the year 1867 no less than 633 boys and 146 girls were started in life in this way. Any person wishing to have a child indentured to him, has to make a formal application to the Committee to that effect, at the same time giving references as to character, etc. Inquiries are made, and if satisfactorily answered, the child is handed over to his custody, the applicant engaging to feed, clothe, and educate his young apprentice. The boy's new master has to forward a written report to the officer, as to his health and general behavior from time to time. If the boy does not do well, he is sent back to the Refuge, and remains there till he is 21 years of age. Most of the children, however, get on, and many of them have made for themselves respectable positions in society. The annals of the Society in this respect are very gratifying and interesting. Many young men never lose sight of a Refuge which rescued them in time from a criminal life, and to which they owe almost their very existence. Instead of alternating between the purlieus of Water street and Sing Sing, they are many of them in a fair way to make a fortune. One young man who was brought up there, and is now thriving, lately called at the office to make arrangements for placing his two younger brothers in the House, they having got into bad company since their father's death. A very remarkable occurrence took place at the institution not long ago. A gentleman and his wife, apparently occupying a good position in society, called at the Refuge and asked to be allowed to go over it. Having inspected the various departments, just before leaving, the gentleman said to his wife, 'Now I will tell you a great secret. I was brought up in this place.' The lady seemed much surprised, and astounded all by quietly observing 'And so was I.' So strange are the coincidences of human life.
"The last financial report issued by the Managers is certainly encouraging, and might be studied with advantage by the Directors of other public institutions. The total expenditures for the year 1867, for an average of nine hundred and ninety inmates, was $115,036; but the earnings of the work-shops amounted to $55,090, making the net expenditures $59,946. In 1864, the net cost of each child was $83; in 1865, $80; in 1866, $74, and in 1867, $61. In 1864, the net earnings of each child were $39; in 1865, $42; in 1866, $49, and in 1867, $56, showing every successive year a better result. At the Red Hill Reformatory in England, the net cost of each child for the year 1867, was $135, and the net earnings of each child $30. The total expenditure of the Penitentiary on Blackwell's Island for last year was $93,966 for an average of five hundred and thirty three-inmates; deducting $15,175, the value of convict labor, the net expenditure was $77,791, making the net annual cost of each convict $146. After making all allowances for difference of age, etc., there is a very wide margin between $146 and $61. The Principal of the Refuge, Mr. Israel C. Jones, has been occupied for seventeen years in Reformatory work, and no doubt the successful results attending the operations of this society are mainly due to his great experience. Mr. Jones takes great pleasure in receiving visitors who are desirous of seeing the practical workings of his system."