Old Specie, the Treasury Detective; or, The Harbor Lights of New York — page 38: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ee | OLD SPECIE. How strange everything appeared when seen through such spectacles as the occasion furnished to him. The washing of the tide past the end of the slip, the creaking of two piles that rubbed against each other, the whistle of a tug-boat or the hoarse an- swering toot from a passing ferry-boat—these and other sounds were to be heard as he moved slowly on. Black as ink looked the water. How many victims had it gathered in during this night? Those who seek to end life go to the cold embrace of the East River, where, in the dark night, there may be heard a cry of anguish from some deserted pier, a splash, and another wretched soul has gone to judgement. New York by daylight isa great sight, but the same city after dark is a stranger one, for then it seems as though the mask were thrown off, and hu- man nature appears in its natural colors—at one end of the city there reigns mirth, festivity, all the joys that money can bring, while at the other end lies poverty, debauchery, crime, suffering—death. It looks as though the favors of the gods were very unevenly distributed at times, and pondering upon such things as these one is not surprised at the dreams of the Socialist, who hopes some day to turn the vessel on a more even keel. The detective was becoming tired. It was certainly hard work pulling that heavy boat against the swift current. Had he been going the other way all would have been well enough, for then the tide might have as- sisted his progress. GComicbooks: co