'In the gambling house in Broadway, near the New York Hotel, I have often noticed a young man, apparently of some 18 or 20 years of age, fashionably dressed, and of prepossessing appearance. On some days he would play very high, and seemed to have most remarkable luck; but he always played with the air of an old gamester, seeming careless as to whether he won or lost. One night he lost so heavily that he attracted the notice of all the players; every stake of his was swept away; and he still played on until his last dollar was lost; then he quietly walked out, whistling a popular Yankee air. He was there next day _MINUS_ his great-coat and watch and chain--he lost again, went out and returned in his shirt sleeves, having pawned his coat, studs, and everything he could with decency divest himself of. He lost everything; and when I next saw him he was selling newspapers in front of the post-office! 'The mania for gambling is a most singular one. I have known a man to win a thousand dollars in a few hours, and yet he would not spend a dollar to get a dinner, but when he felt hungry he went to a baker's shop and bought a loaf of bread, and that same night lost all his money at Roulette. 'There is another house on the corner of Centre and Grand Streets, open during night and day. The stakes here are the same as in the one in Broadway, and the people who play are very much the same--in fact, the same faces are constantly to be met with in all the gambling houses, from the highest to the lowest. When a gambler has but small capital, he will go to a small house, where small stakes are admissible. I saw a man win 50 or 60 dollars at this place, and then hand in his checks (markers) to be cashed. The dealer handed him the money, and said--"Now you go off, straight away to Union Square, and pay away all you have won from here to John Morrissey. This is the way with all of them; they never come here until they are dead broke, and have only a dirty dollar or so to risk." There was some truth in what he said, but notwithstanding he managed to keep the bank going on. There is a great temptation to a man who has won a sum of money at a small gambling house to go to a higher one, as he may then, at a single stake, win as much as he could possibly win if he had a run of luck in a dozen stakes at the smaller bank. 'In No. 102, in the Bowery, there is one of the lowest of the gaming houses I have seen in the Empire city. The proprietor is an Irishman; he employs three men as dealers, and they relieve one another every four hours during the day and night. The stakes here are of the lowest, and the people to be seen here of the roughest to be found in the city. The game is Faro, as elsewhere.