ime awake; but at
twelve to-night they will rouse up, and their eyes will be keen, and
their minds acute, and their arms strong, and their foot fleet to fly
or pursue. Many of them have been brought up to the work. They were
born in a thief's garret. Their childish plaything was a burglar's
dark lantern. As long ago as they can remember, they saw, toward
morning, the mother binding up the father's head, wounded by a
watchman's billet. They began by picking boys' pockets, and now they
can dig an underground passage to the cellar of the bank, or will
blast open the door of the gold vault. So long as the children of the
street are neglected there will be no lack of desperadoes.

In the third watch of the night the gambling-houses are in full blast.
What though the hours of the night are slipping away, and the wife
sits waiting in the cheerless home! Stir up the fires! Bring on the
drinks! Put up the stakes! A whole fortune may be made before morning!
Some of the firms that two years ago first put out their sign of
copartnership have already foundered on the gambler's table. The
money-drawer in many a mercantile house will this year mysteriously
spring a leak. Gaming is a portentous vice, and is making great efforts
to become respectable. Recently a member of Congress played with a
member elect, carrying off a trophy of one hundred and twenty thousand
dollars. The old-fashioned way of getting a fortune is too slow! Let
us toss up and see who shall have it!

And so it goes, from the wheezing wretches who pitch pennies in a rum
grocery, to the millionnaire gamblers in the gold-market.

After midnight the eye of God will look down and see uncounted
gambling-saloons plying their destruction. Passing down the street
to-night, you may hear the wrangling of the gamblers mingling with
the rattle of the dice, and the clear, sharp crack of the balls on the
billiard-table.

The finest rooms in the city are gambling dens. In gilded parlor, amid
costly tapestry, you may behold these dens of death. These houses have
walls attractive with elaborate fresco and gems of painting--no sham
artist's daub, but a masterpiece. Mantel and table glitter with vases
and statuettes. Divans and lounges with deep cushions, the perfection
of upholstery, invite to rest and repose. Aquaria alive with fins and
strewn with tinged shells and zoophytes. Tufts of geranium, from bead
baskets, suspended mid-room, drop their witching perfume. Fountains
gushing