the close of each dance he generally takes her to the bar and treats her. We notice with thankfulness that the females appear to be almost all of foreign birth, the exceptions being Spanish-Americans, with occasionally an Indian girl, who has been raised as a servant in some family in San Francisco, but, Indian-like, prefers a life of idleness, vice and degradation to one of comfort and honest labor. This place has been the scene of many a savage affray and brutal murder; and often have we seen the sawdust on its floor red with the blood of some victim of the knife or bullet. It is long past midnight, but the drunken orgies go on unchecked, and will do so for hours yet, if no bloody row occur to end them prematurely.
"Do you want to see where these people lodge? Come along with me," says our official friend. We notice many large lamps with "Lodgings 25, 50 and 75 cents per night," painted thereon, are hanging at the doors of dirty, dilapidated-looking buildings. We enter one of these places without ceremony. A wrinkled old hag sits in an outer band-box of an office, to receive the pay in advance from the customers of the establishment. "Who have you got in here to-night," demands the man of the star. "Well, we ain't began to fill up much yet; but there's Tom Reynolds, an' Constable Bob, an' Bluey, an' Callahan, and a few others. I hope you don't want any on 'em now, do ye?" replies the hag. Relieved by the assurance that the visit is only one of curiosity, not on behalf of the law, the old creature, with a chuckle of satisfaction, leads the way with the lamp, and we
