Before leaving New York, (which is ironically styled Gotham, from an old English town noted for the stupidity of its citizens,) let me say one word about its early history. New York, the great commercial metropolis of this country, is built on an island fourteen miles long, and from one fourth of a mile to two miles and a half wide, called, originally, Manhattan Island. This island was purchased from the Indians many years ago for twenty-four silver dollars. No wonder that race of people have had such bad luck during the last century; for any people who would extort such a sum of money from simple, inoffensive Europeans, don’t deserve any providential favors. Poor, impoverished New York has been struggling ever since to get out of debt, but in vain; this colossal sum, which the heartless savages demanded in ready hard cash, completely “strapped” the mayor and city council, and they have never been able to struggle up to an independent pecuniary position since. Shortly before leaving the city, I was taking my usual stroll, when, turning the corner of Broadway and Fulton street rather abruptly, I accidentally planted my crutch fairly upon the unfortunate toes of an elderly gentleman. He proved to be one of the irascible sort—and no doubt it _did_ hurt like the deuce—and he turned angrily toward me, brandished a cane, and vociferated: “****’* fire and ***nation! If you were not a one-legged man I’d knock your head off!” Thus, you see, that having lost a leg saved my head. I felt a little riled at first, but seeing that he was an old man, I curbed my fiery passion and calmly replied: “If I were not a one-legged man, sir, I would not be using a crutch; and hence it wouldn’t have happened.” And we went our ways. Without getting robbed, or garroted, or murdered in cold blood—in fact without getting “done” in any shape, I spent several weeks in New York, visiting many places of interest in the vicinity, such as Central Park, High Bridge, and the various islands in the bay and harbor; and finally returned to Philadelphia, my adopted city, with the impression that New York wasn’t such a bad place after all. CHAPTER IX. SEA-SICK.—UGH! IN January, 1865, I concluded to visit the New England—otherwise called the “Yankee” or “Eastern”—States; and thought I would at once strike for Boston, Massachusetts, which is called the “Hub of the Universe,” and make that city my head-quarters during my stay in the “land of steady habits:” that means the six New England States: Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut. The habits of the people of all the rest of the United States are very _un_steady.