sit over a glass of wine and—in the spirit of fan—make jokes that are none too delicate. Who are these three ladies? 'Ladies!' laughs my knowing friend. 'Well, the one on the right, with the brown hair and the short, fancy dress, is called "Butterrieke," and he is a hair-dresser; the second one—the blonde in a singer's costume, with the necklace of pearls—is known here by the name of "Miss Ella of the tight-rope," and he is a ladies' tailor; and the third,—that is the widely-celebrated "Lottie."'
"But that person cannot possibly be a man? That waist, that bust, those classic arms, the whole air and person are markedly feminine!
"I am told that 'Lottie' was once a book-keeper. To-day she, or, rather, he, is exclusively 'Lottie,' and takes pleasure in deceiving men about his sex as long as possible. 'Lottie' is singing a song that would hardly do for a drawing-room, in a high voice, acquired by years of practice, which many a soprano might envy. 'Lottie' has also 'worked' as a female comedian. Now the quondam book-keeper has so entered into the female rôle that he appears on the street in female attire almost exclusively, and, as the people with whom he lodges state, uses an embroidered night-dress.
"On closer examination of the assembly, to my astonishment, I discover acquaintances on all hands: my shoe-maker, whom I should have taken for anything but a woman-hater—he is a 'troubadour,' with sword and plume; and his 'Leonora,' in the costume of a bride, is accustomed to place my favorite brand of cigars before me in a certain cigar-store. 'Leonora,' who, during an intermission, removes her gloves, I recognize with certainty by her large, blue hands. Right! There is my haberdasher, also; he moves about in a questionable costume as Bacchus, and is the swain of a repugnantly bedecked Diana, who works as a waiter in a beer-restaurant. The real 'ladies' of the ball cannot be described here. They associate only with one another, and avoid the woman-hating men; and the latter are exclusive, and amuse themselves, absolutely ignoring the charms of the women."
These facts deserve the careful attention of the police, who should be placed in a position to cope with male prostitution, as they now do with that of women.
Male prostitution is certainly much more dangerous to society than that of females; it is the darkest stain on the history of humanity.
From the statements of a high police official of Berlin, I learn that the police of Berlin are conversant with the male demi-monde of the German Capital, and do all they can to suppress blackmail among pederasts,—a practice which often does not stop short of murder.
