Dallas herald. [volume] (Dallas, Tex.) 1849-1873, 1859-09-14
The shadows of City Lie.

every characteristic Of wealth and want, bar
harity and civilization, erime and wTetehedness
= Ia amply and truthiully developed in numerou
, portions of this Pennsylvania Babel We hav,
the lights and shadows of personal, political, so
. cial and municipal liie-and many AN interest
ing lesson they teach us, In no part of theciy
are these lessons moro plainly taught than in m,
purlieus of Baker. Bedford and SpaiIord streets
and what we propose now is q sketch of life as
we have witnessed it in these notorious locali.
ties.
, With gentlemanly officer of the First dis,
triet, L. AnnSy, for a cicerone, and u gentleman,
ly brother of our profession for n companion, we
started II few mornings since on II tour of obser-
walton in the places indicated, Ii was tho most
favorable time for ylsit-shortly before NOON
and what little cleaning is ever done had been
accomplished. On Bedford street, where we
commenced our journey, wo encountered II mot
Icy crowd OF children, women, and lazy men OF
all compilations. Some were fair 10 look upon
singular pictures of innocence in the great gal
lery of wickodness others were the impersona.
tions OF neglect filth and precocious sim There
were women who had been yirtuous long time
ago, men who had been honest and honorable be-
fore poverty and rum had accomplished their
ruin, and all presenting strangely the appear
ancc of wonderful wrecks Of manhood and wo.
manhood, floating on tho shoals of sorrow and
I sin.
Down into cellar. by n rickety pair of steps,
and we onter n room six feet by ten. Ii Is occu.
pied by white woman, who had been living
there five years. In one corner is n pallet of
straw, witha four inch plank for pillow. Tho
woman is at home, but her husband is ut his
daily occupation
ave try to make things look NICE" she says,
"but Heaven knows such poor accommodations
some days too warm-sOmo days too cold-and,
when it rains, the water comes in through the
ceiling"
"But whynot leave it, and 20 somewhere clsel"
"Thats the way me and my old man talks, but
poor folks can't have everything their own way.
Five years makes folk like one pace--so it does"
"What rent do you pay"
''Seyenty-ive cents u week, sir, rs sure as
Saturday night comes.'
Across the street, to the north side of Bedford
and we enter the premises of IL mil ikman--through
q dilapidatcd gate, over piles of manure, into
small, closely y-oonfned stable, reeking with ami
NAL excrement. LII one corner an old man is
huddled up, who had been evidently on a forty
eight hours drunk. His eyes IS listless. his face
is swollen with intcmperance, his body is cover
ed with rags, and his head is prcmaturoy gray.
Three cows are tied in a narrow stall, who chew
their cud despairingly as they think of the
green fields nature has provided for them. The
poor cows exhibit every indication of neglect
Their bones almost pierce the SKIN, JiNcir bodyi in
mnny places is covered with wounds, while un-
speakable indications of cruelty are manifest
ltere they sleep, and cat, and stay during the
long and the long nght-through the sutry
summer and The weary winter-until death re-
lieves them of their suiferings. In one corner
OF the stable we enter dOOr-a small door about 3
feet highland find ourselves in u basement, cov-
cred with filth and rags. The mistress Is absent
Sat work." as our informant has it-and the
master is also at his daily employment
After looking in at number of disgusting
dens along Bedford, we 60 up Spahord street,
north of the COW stable, Here is a
bunch of houses belonging to Mr.. Fitzpatrick,
who lives on Broad street. The houses general
ly contain four rooms, each room being rented to
is collected punctua lily by Mr.. Fitzpatrick. On
IN average, the rooms are about twelve feet by
nine; the ceilings low, and the buildings very in
secure. Mr.. X. is reputcd to be in good crcum-
stances
Through small gate and up a long alley, and
We find ourselves in Il long and narrow yard at 1
ached to slaughter house. In one corner is |
,!g-pcn, where five large pigs wallow in the mud {
Three or four pigs run about the yard, and s
mall cur barks attendance at our heels. Here s
great deal of the pork consumed by the people l
lrOund is butchered, and made ready for market
All the smells Coledridge found in Cologne may
De experienced here, hundred times intensified.
As matter Of course. our stay is rem arkably
,rief
Passing disreputable house, known as "The
shady Harbors," and kept by one Owen Clark
We enter a "bone and rag establishment n doz- ]
IN of which are in the neighborhood. These es-
ablishments are kept by people who purchase I
zones, rags, and otfal from the poor unortunates
esiding in the vicinity. In each factory visited
~ US we found a large dog securely chained, !
,ept, it is said, to keep off robbers. The bone |
md rag business is said to pay to those who t
ave capital enough to keep an establishment, ,
ut to the people whose labors sustain the bust c
less the remuneration is scanty enough. t
We leave this, and enter another building, de-
oted to different business, but one peculiar to f
his locality. 1t is conducted in cellar, the j
pper stories being devoted to boarding and lodg n
ng, A very miserly man stands at the door,
nd barters with very miserable one for bun j
lie of mouldy boots and shoes. A large pile of e
hese articles stands in the middle of the cellar, il
1hile two or three negroes are busy in taking L
hem apart, and removing some Of the accumula-
ed dirt. These shoes are used for making an o
Inferior kind Of glue. The business of collect "
ng them pays better than any one pursued by 4
he people Of the neighborhood. v
Passing up Baker street towards place known I
3 "Dufy's Arcade we pause at an open cellar D
7hlch our cicerone tells us is the scene of late
cath. He refers to that of woman named
larry Smith, who died on Saturday week, under v
circumstances that led to the suspicion of mur- s
er, and account of which appeared in The n
'ress.' On entering the cellar we find large !
undle of straw in one corner two or three emp i
y bottles on broken shelf, bundle of rags in a
mother corner, and rickety basket suspended :,
rom the ceiling, containing few cold potatoes, b
hree or four slices of mouldy bread, and pa c
,er of half-cooked rice. No one lives there now ,
the room being for rent, as dirty-faced girl Z
With red hair tells us from one Of the upper t.
windows. The landlord of the place is one Peter C
Brady, who lives on htzwater street, above Sew a
nth. The rent lie ten cents night
From here we pass along few doors, and en- 4
er another alley belonging to Michael Griffin, y
r "Mickey Grifin,'' as the urchins persist in +
alling him. The front. house is occupied by :,
Ir. Griffin, as a tavern. lie rents the row of .;
ouses Immediately in the rear, and on the reve- D