-The Stranger--a general Turn-out-Peeling
a Lodger--the 'Forty-Foot Cave.'_

It was a dreary winter's night, cold, dark, and stormy. The hour was
midnight; and the place, the '_Five Points_.'

The narrow and crooked streets which twine serpent-like around that
dreaded plague spot of the city were deserted; but from many a dirty
window, and through many a red, dingy curtain, streamed forth into the
darkness rages of ruddy light, while the sounds of the violin, and the
noise of Bacchanalian orgies, betokened that the squalid and vicious
population of that vile region were still awake.

In the low and dirty tap-room of a thieves' _crib_ in Cross street, are
assembled about a dozen persons. The apartment is twenty feet square,
and is warmed by a small stove, which is red-hot; a roughly constructed
bar, two or three benches, and a table constitute all the furniture.
Behind the bar stands the landlord, a great, bull-necked Irishman, with
red hair, and ferocious countenance, the proprietor of the elegant
appropriate appellation of 'Bloody Mike.' Upon the table are stretched
two men, one richly dressed, and the other in rags--both sound asleep.
Beneath the table lay a wretched-looking white prostitute, and a
filthy-looking negro--also asleep. The remainder of the interesting
party are seated around the stove, and sustain the following dialogue:

'Well, blow me tight,' said one, 'if ever I seed such times as these
afore! Why, a feller can't steal enough to pay for his rum and tobacco.
I haven't made a cent these three days. D----n me if I ain't half a mind
to knock it off and go to work!'

The speaker was a young man, not over one and twenty years of age; yet
he was a most wretched and villainous looking fellow. His hair was wild
and uncombed; his features bloated and covered with ulcers; his attire
miserable and ragged in the extreme; and sundry sudden twitchings of his
limbs, as well as frequent violent scratchings of the same, indicated
that he was overrun with vermin. This man, whose indolence had made him
a common loafer, had become a petty thief; he would lurk around
backyards and steal any article he could lay his hands to--an axe, a
shovel, or a garment off a line.

'What you say is true enough, Ragged Pete,' said a boy of about
fourteen, quite good looking, and dressed with comparative neatness. 'A
_Crossman_ has to look sharp now-a-days to make a _boodle_. And he often
gets deceived when he thinks he has made a