I Called The Other Day On A Friend, An American, Who Told Me That He Had
That Morning Spoken With His Landlady About Her Carelessness In Leaving
The Shutters Of Her Lower Rooms Unclosed During The Night.
She answered
that she never took the trouble to close them, that so secure was the city
from ordinary burglaries, under the arrangements of the new police, that
it was not worth the trouble.
The windows of the parlor next to my
sleeping-room open upon a rather low balcony over the street door, and
they are unprovided with any fastenings, which in New York we should think
a great piece of negligence. Indeed, I am told that these night robberies
are no longer practiced, except when the thief is assisted by an accessary
in the house. All classes of the people appear to be satisfied with the
new police. The officers are men of respectable appearance and respectable
manners. If I lose my way, or stand in need of any local information, I
apply to a person in the uniform of a police officer. They are sometimes
more stupid in regard to these matters than there is any occasion for,
but it is one of the duties of their office to assist strangers with local
information.
Begging is repressed by the new police regulations, and want skulks in
holes and corners, and prefers its petitions where it can not be overheard
by men armed with the authority of the law. "There is a great deal of
famine in London," said a friend to me the other day, "but the police
regulations drive it out of sight." I was going through Oxford-street
lately, when I saw an elderly man of small stature, poorly dressed, with a
mahogany complexion, walking slowly before me.
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