Lehigh University
The Vault at PfaffsAn Archive of Art and Literature by the Bohemians of Antebellum New York
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Text for Page 187 [12-24-1859]

              178
  24.  Saturday.   Out in the morning.
Down town at sunset, to the Post Office, Courier
and Pic.       A cold, dull night. Having very
little money in my pockets indeed, as I went up
Nassau Street, thinking of it being Christmas
eve, I felt lonely; none the less so on turning
into the dreary newspaper office, with its sleepy men,
gas-glare and familiars, one of whom informs me
I�m not �in � which means no $5 on Wednesday.
Out into the black cold streets again and up into
the Pic Office, there to scribble, do proof &c, anon
up town with Bob Gun and Cahill, taking a
drink preliminary at Matarans.           The former
and I went round to hear Sam Cowell in the
evening, when I was introduced to Bateman.  To-
wards the end of the entertainment, O�Brien and
a familiar of his, who imitates him, they say,
in dress and manner, appeared in a side box.
I heard and recognized a well remembered laugh
� a sonorous, aggressive, affected laugh, with a
good deal of Sir Mulberry-Hawk-like coarseness
and hoarseness in it, suggestive of unspeakable man-
about-townish wickedness � I heard this
before I saw him.   When we were quitting the thea-
tre he was temporarily behind me, got up in ultra-
English style, with a circular round-crowned
hat and a pair of the loudest-patterned and
most expansive �peg-top� trousers conceivable,               
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