It is not part of the present purpose of this book to give particulars as to who and what their mistresses are, further than to state that at least one or two of the “Witches” described herein, officiate in that capacity. It is true, that the most of them are not of a style to tempt the lust of any man, but there are certain exceptions to the general rule, and in one or two instances the “Individual” found the fortune-teller to be comely and pleasant to the eye. As these women generally have plenty of money, they are very eligible partners for gamblers, who are liable to as many reverses as ever Mr. Micawber encountered, and who, when once down, might remain perpetually floored, did not some kind friend set them on their financial feet again.
And this is one of the duties of the monied mistress. When the “sporting man” is in funds, no one is more recklessly extravagant than he, and no one cuts a greater dash than his “ladye-love,” if he chooses so to do; but when the cards run cross, and the purse is empty, it devolves upon her to furnish the capital to start in the world again.
The fact is well known to those who have taken the trouble to inquire into the subject, that several of the more fashionable fortune-tellers of the city sustain this sort of illicit relation to certain “sporting men,” whose faces a man may see, perhaps, half a dozen times in the course of a lounge up and down Broadway of a pleasant afternoon.
Madame Clifton is, on the whole, a comely woman, and does a good business, but of course no sane person will think of applying these remarks personally to that respected matron.
The “Individual” paid a lengthened visit to Madame Clifton, and his remarks are recorded below. Because he met a sleek, close-shaved, finely moustached gentleman coming away from the door, he was of course not justified in believing that the said gentleman belonged to the establishment. Of course not.
The female professors of the black art hitherto visited by the Cash Customer, had not impressed him with a profound belief in their supernatural powers; he was “anxious,” and was “awakened to inquiry,” but he still had doubts, and there was great danger of his backsliding if there wasn’t something immediately done for him.
He had been greatly disappointed by the absence from the domiciles of these good ladies of all the traditional necromantic implements and tools. His disposition to adhere to the modern witch-faith would have been greatly strengthened by the sight of a skull and cross-bones; a tame snake, or a little devil in a bottle, would have fixed his wavering belief; and his conversion would have been thoroughly assured by the timely exhibition of a broomstick on which he could see the saddle-marks.
None of these things had as yet been forthcoming, and the anxious inquirer, mourning the departure of all the romance of the art of witchcraft, was fast sinking into a state of incurable scepticism on the subject of even its utility, in the degenerate hands of modern practitioners. Hope had not, however, entirely deserted his heart, but still retained her fabled position in the bottom of his chest, near that important viscus, and he, therefore, courageously continued his pursuit of witchcraft under difficulties.
His next visit was to Orchard street, and he was induced to expect favorable results by the encouraging and positive assertion which concludes the subjoined advertisement, that “Madame Clifton is no humbug:”
“An Astrologist that beats the World, and $5,000 reward is offered to pay any person who can surpass her in giving correct statements on past, present, and future events, particularly absent friends, losses, lawsuits, &c. She also gives lucky numbers. She surpasses any person that has ever visited our city. She is also making great cures. All persons who are afflicted with consumption, liver complaint, scrofula, rheumatism, or any other lingering disease, would do well to call and see this wonderful and natural gifted lady, and you will not go away dissatisfied. N.B.—Madame Clifton is no humbug. Call and satisfy yourselves. Residence No. 185 Orchard-st., between Houston and Stanton.”