There happened to be a young man from Stavanger, or rather, from Tastad, Jaederen, living in Brooklyn. He had assisted our carpenter a couple of days with some work. On inquiry, if he was acquainted in the city, he said he was. Could he show a person about? Yes, that he could. Then, we went ashore one evening, to see what was to be seen. We came to a large, but not well lighted building, where he said we ought to go in. I did not like the appearance of the place but trusted our guide. When we opened the outer door there was a stairway to second, and at top of it was a long dark corridor, poorly lighted. Our guide was ahead. At the other end of the hall he opened a door and we came into a room occupied by some magicians. There were only a few spectators present. Some of them looked like questionable characters. No admission fees were asked. We sat down on a bench. One of the magicians stepped up to a table and put and empty, corked, transparent bottle on it; then put an empty paper sack over the bottle. Then he swung his hand over the paper sack, mumbled something, took the bag off the bottle, broke it, and out came a living parrot. Then another came, with a few balls of cotton, dipped on of them at a time in some inflammable liquid and lighted it, stuck it in his mouth and swallowed it. After a few seconds he opened his mouth, and kept blowing out flames for some time. Another took a red hot iron rod, put it in his mouth, bit off small pieces from the hot rod, spat them on the floor right at our feet, where they lay and hissed for some time. There was no one who could doubt the pieces were red hot iron. Then this same one take a big, long dirk, about 18 inches, open his mouth and puts it down his throat to the hilt.
There were probably a few other exhibitions of similar kind. I began to get tired and wanted to leave. But, as soon as we showed signs of leaving, there was someone with tickets, for which we had to pay a good price, before we were permitted to leave.
When we came down the corridor a distance our guide opened another door and we went in. Here were also some slight-of-hand performers. They would have us take part in a sort of play. I thought it was a trap to get some money out of us, and told my guide I would go out. But here again came strong men, with tickets, to have us pay, before we would be permitted to leave. Then I went down stairs and out in the street, where I said to the guide: 'I believe we need a glass of beer after seeing all these fire-eaters. Do you know where we could buy some?' He did. Then he led us to a place where there was a front door of glass, but the glass was colored or opaque. The interior could nor be seen until one entered. It was a saloon, sure enough. When I asked for some beer, there came a flock of girls running up to us, and desired to be treated. 'No', I said, 'You buy your own beer, that's what I have to do.' Before I knew what was happening one of the girls grabbed my hat and disappeared with it. The others begged for beer again; but I meant no. When we had drunk our beer I asked for my hat, as I was ready to leave. 'No, not before you treat us.' I began to be a little hot under the collar. I did not like to lose the fine straw hat that I had bought in Copenhagen. Rather than treat, however, I would let the hat go. 'I am going, without my hat,' I said, and I opened the door to go. Then they threw the hat after me.
I said nothing to our guide, but I thought a whole lot. He understood I was not very well pleased, and he proposed to go some other place, where he would treat to drink. 'You will have to find the place, then,' I said. He led us to another opaque door where he went in and I after him. Here we saw a thick, fat woman, lying on a sofa, nearly naked. She arose and greeted us. I did not see any beer for sale there, so I turned around immediately, and the guide came after me.
That was the last straw that 'broke the camel's back.' I could keep still no longer, and asked the guide if he had visited these places before, where we had called this evening. 'No', he said he had not. 'That is what I thought,' I said, 'You are a fine fellow to show me your city. I don't believe you are acquainted here; and now I have had all the guide service I want from you. I am going back on board. But you found some of the most disreputable places in Brooklyn, and you and I were lucky to get away from them alive. I believe I know both New York and Brooklyn better than you do.' Probably I said more. I was disgusted. He did not answer.