Source:

Nast, Thomas. "Uncle Sam's Thanksgiving Dinner." Harper's Weekly 20 Nov 1869.

Reprinted from Christmas Puck, December 1891.

One of the most deplorable features of the skating rink boom is that many of the worst of the concert gardens and dance houses in and near the Bowery have been turned into rinks, wherein the skating has all the evil environment characteristic of the places.

The interior of one of the ten•cent skating rinks in Chatham Square was formerly used as a low dance hall. A visit the other night showed that the tables and chairs for drinkers remained in place; so did the placards relating to beverages, along with fresh ones, stating the rental prices of skates; and the bar held its accustomed place in a front corner, while on a platform a pianist and cornetist made unimproved music. The girls who formerly danced and drank with the visitors who would let them, now had roller skates on their feet, but the bibulous customs of the resort remained undisturbed. There were two fellows who did fanciful and grotesque skating, and were seemingly employes, beside a dozen who apparently skated for fun, but most of the men in the assemblage were spectators of the girls' feats, some of which were gymnastic in character. The most graceful of these was a swift approach to the bar, a short stop in front of it, and then a gliding off with the hands beer-laden. The most popular, however, was a fall, provided it had spontaneity, and seemed to hurt the faller. It has been suggested as a good measure of reform in the roller skating business that teachers employed in the rinks be ladies instead of gentlemen.

Illustrated Police News, May 16, 1885.

How They Meet Behind the Scenes—Temptations and Trials of the High Kickers.

The ballet girl has other duties than those involved by her theatrical connection. Many a woman who spends her nights posturing before the pubic does so to secure the necessary food and shelter for some one dear to her. In Paris it is a regular practice among the girls to bring their sewing and knitting to the theatre, and in the intervals of rehearsal and performance when they have a a short respite from toil to busily ply the needle. Many even do quite an amount of lace work, tetting, embroidery and similar tasks for money in that precious period of leisure.

But our ballet girl has a more pleasing task before her.

She is laboring for her little one.

Baby is sound asleep in the cradles in that poor garret mother works day and night to keep between his little head and the winter sky. But the memory of his rosy face follows her through the snowy streets, into the blazing theatre and haunts her as she moves about the gay an tawdry scene. Even the lecherous old debauchee, the moving man of money and corruption who totters from wing to wing seeking fresh food for his debased appetite stops short of her, and hesitates before he utters his foul propositions for her. There is that in her employment that paralyses even his shameless tongue. He looks upon a mother working for her child, and though the gloomy visits of his debased life he sees himself a child and remembers that there was a time when he knelt at his mother’s knee, and had no conscience to bring him troubled dreams.

Reprinted from The National Police Gazette, October 16, 1880.

Crooks collared at the National Capital during inauguration week

Noted professionals who obtained places in the "Rogues Gallery" at Washington, D. C., March 3-4-5.

Fifty-one noted professional crooks of various grades were taken in custody in Washington, D. C., during inauguration week. Some of them were arrested and merely held in custody until the inauguration ceremonies were over. Those against whom no definite charges were made were then placed on trains and run out of the city. The NEWS presents in this number the portraits of the most important.

Illustrated Police News, April 25, 1885.

Summer Pleasures—A Picnic on Marblehead Neck. Massachusetts. [more]

The march of progress has not destroyed that freshness of pleasure which ever attends a bit of cold chicken or lobster salad with a glass of fiz, partaken of on the green grass, whether it be by the hillside or riverside or seaside. There is a piquant flavor in the food, a bouquet in the wine, a joyousness in the feast, which surpasses all the sensuous gratification of a superbly set table with its cut glass and glowing flowers and glittering cutlery and tidbits that a cordon bleu could serve in the form of a dainty dinner. With the greensward for a carpet, the blue sky for a roof, and the murmuring sea for music, the picnic which we illustrate is simply perfect. The yellow basket has been carefully packed, the champagne very judiciously iced, the young couples with the “gooseberry-picking” boy capitally matched. Everybody is hungry, for the ozone-laden breeze stealing across the heaving ocean is the best sauce ever served up with human food. The pastry has been made by the white hands of the girls and will be rapturously eaten by the gentlemen in waiting, the small boy doing yeoman’s work. Under the genial influence of the champagne the timid young man will become emboldened, and vows that lay “full fathoms five” in his bashful heart will come to the surface during that postprandial stroll on the tawny sands. What fun washing up the dishes and plates and knives and forks! What fun setting up an empty bottle to fling pebbles at! What fun re-packing! What laughing at the awkwardness of the gentlemen! It is all fun, innocent merriment, and that delightful abandon begotten of youth, health and the freedom of a meal taken al fresco.

Reprinted from "Picnic on Marblehead Neck." Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper 11 Aug 1883: 403.