Produced by Roberta Staehlin, Dave Hobart and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) [Transcibers note: This text version uses underscores, '_', to show _italic_ and '=' is used to indicate =bold=. Mostly, the original text has been left alone complete with misspellings, inconsistencies, etc. as these are part of the charm of the book. Also, inconsistent hyphenation and paragraphs that end in commas have also been left as per the original. Minor punctuation and apparent printing errors have been corrected without note. A list of changes that have been made is shown at the end of the book.] [Illustration: "Come, now, s'posing we strike up a trade. I've took a sort of a sneaking notion to that ere new-fashioned side-saddle. So if you'll throw in the tackling, I'll give you ten dollars for it, cash on the nail."--_Page 150._] [Illustration: "I wish you could a seen that Astor House chap when he read the name; he looked as if he didn't know what to du, but at last he stepped back, and made a bow, and sez he--"--_Page 184._] HIGH LIFE IN NEW YORK. BY JONATHAN SLICK, ESQ., OF WEATHERSFIELD, CONNECTICUT. A SERIES OF LETTERS TO MR. ZEPHARIAH SLICK, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, AND DEACON OF THE CHURCH OVER TO WEATHERSFIELD IN THE STATE OF CONNECTICUT. EMBELLISHED WITH ILLUSTRATIVE ENGRAVINGS. _Philadelphia_: T. B. PETERSON AND BROTHERS, 806 CHESTNUT STREET. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. JONATHAN SENDS A PREFACE. A letter was dispatched to Weathersfield requesting Mr. Slick to forward a preface for his volume of epistles, but that gentleman instead sent the following letter, which is so full of his own peculiar humor that his friends will no doubt gladly accept of it in lieu of one. THE PUBLISHERS. WEATHERSFIELD, CONNECTICUT. Gentlemen, Surs: Your letter got tu the old humstead last night, nigh upon bed time, and it eenamost upsot me to think that a feller that's printed so many smashing books, had got a notion tu print my Letters tu, and asked my consent jest as mealy mouthed as a feller asks the gal he's been a courting to yoke in with him for life.