The Definitive Guidebook by Ulric Mires
A Brief Introduction
So, you’ve decided, for one reason or another, to move to the great and garish city of Gullwurst. An understandable choice, a growing port city like Gullwurst is filled with opportunity and excitement around every corner. But don’t be fooled. Underneath the brick-laid exterior and fresh seaside breeze lies a tremendous pit of vice and danger. When you move to this city, you must be prepared. Thankfully, I, Ulric T. Mires,[1] will assist you in this Herculean task. I have lived in this city for a little over 5 years now, and I know it like the back of my hand. When you find yourself overwhelmed, lost, or confused (and you will) this guide will be your lighthouse and closest companion through the unfamiliar modern wilderness.[2]
Before we properly begin our tour of Gullwurst today, we must look back at its history. Only by understanding its humble origins can we understand the complex inner workings of the backbone of civilization it has become today. It all started about 25 years ago. Gullwurst originally started out as a small community of fishermen and their families. Back then, it was said that the seagulls outnumbered the humans 3 to 1, and rumor has it that the fishermen would resort to hunting and eating them if the fish were scarce. The population size of the town largely stayed the same for about 9 years. Thanks to the arrival of inventions like the modern coal powered fishing boat, the assembly line, and canned goods, Gullwurst built a thriving fishing goods industry over the span of a short decade.[3] Yes, surprisingly enough, everyone just can’t seem to get enough of canned fish, fish oil, fish leather, and fish fertilizer.[4]
I was one of the many people who added to its population around a year later. I grew up in a small farming community roughly 7 hours[5] out of the city. We were doing well, a little too well. With 12 siblings and inventions that would reduce the labor needed to run a profitable farm in half, I was left with no choice but to find work in Gullwurst.[6] Like you, I was alone in a foreign landscape with no clue what lay before me. Thankfully, you have a great advantage over that man from 5 years ago, my experience in your back pocket.
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1: Finding a Place to Call “Home”
When moving to the city, the question of where exactly you should live is forefront. I am sorry to say that if you were expecting a home like the one you grew up in, you would be left very disappointed. There are no “homes” in Gullwurst, at least not in the typical sense.[7] Lodgings are tightly packed, and you will be forced to live alongside any number of unknown people there. Not all housing is created equal, and this section will help you find the best housing you can get. First, try to find housing through a friend or family connection. The closer you are to someone you already know or someone that is confirmed as trustworthy by people you know, the better. Second, avoid all lodgings along Harper Lane. The tenements that line either side of the street are the most crowded buildings you will find, with as many as 5 residents per room. It is also one of the closest streets to the docks and industrial district, the smell of aging fish and the sound of boats, trains, and other machines constantly assault the senses. Sanitation is an afterthought, the street is choked with mud and filth.[8] At evening, the windows overhead and doorsteps below become the hunting grounds of the all too common “Harper Lane Harpies,” women who find their work in intimate encounters with unsuspecting, or unsavory, young men.[9]
Outside of Harper Lane and other choice locations, the most predominant type of housing that you will find in Gullwurst is the boarding house. This form of public living consists of multiple boarders sharing a single house owned and operated by a landlady. When choosing a place to board, keep a sharp eye and discerning mind, for all may not be as it seems. The infinitesimal combinations of landladies and boarders make each boarding house different. One boarding house could be as pure and comfortable as public living can be, while others could be thinly veiled fronts for houses of assignation and gambling dens. Look out for any telltale signs of an unwell boarding house! The signs of an unwell boarding house can be clearly seen in its boarders. Are they of the lower class?[10] Do they not care for their appearance? Do they often break the sacred boundaries of privacy by barging into each other’s rooms?[11] What about the landlady of the house? How does she carry herself? Is she trying to add to your bill? If you see any of these signs while considering a boarding house, proceed with caution. You may be standing on the precipice of a pit of vice.
Of course, I do not want to give the wrong impression, there are some genuinely safe boarding houses out there, but it never hurts to be too careful. To illustrate what a “good” boarding house looks like, I will use a story from my life. It was a 2-story house at 349 Daringer Street, and I was recommended that place by one of my uncles. The landlady, an older woman named Mrs. Jenson, led me to the parlor to discuss the rent and house rules. The rent was about $15 a week, and a couple of rules that come to mind were “don’t stay out past 11 p.m.” and “no smoking in the building.” “I just don’t like the smell. It gets into everything.” I remember her saying, “And I lock all the doors at 11, I can’t have some alcoholic or miscreant wandering in here in the dead of night. It’s just not safe.” The comfort and safety of her boarders was clearly at the forefront of her mind, and I accepted the conditions for living there. When I moved in, I was living alongside a young couple, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, a clerk, Thomas Finny, and some others. Due to limited space, I was forced to sleep in the same room as Finny. My first night there I had to endure Finny’s complaints about his job. According to him, the store he worked at had a rat infestation. He talked about rats hanging out along the side of the road in front of the store, and some even getting in and attempting to steal things, “I managed to grab a broom and chase a couple of rats out before they could get their grubby little hands on anything.” At the time, I was confused that a dry goods store in a better part of the city could have a rat problem. I would receive some clarification on the “rats” in the city while I worked my first job at Gullwurst’s docks.
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2: Work and the Industrial District[12]
When looking for work in any city, you’ll most likely find it in the industrial district. Just like the promise of gold in the hills fueled westward expansion, the promise of jobs in cities fuels their expansion.[13] Gullwurst in particular thrives on its industry of fish products. Fish are hauled from the ocean, transported between a web of various factories for processing, and shipped out across the country.[14] There are plenty of jobs in this sector available to anyone with a hard work ethic and physical prowess, so go out there and grab that opportunity! The following are just a few of the many jobs you can have in Gullwurst’s industrial district! You could work on one of the boats in this city’s state-of-the-art fishing fleet, taking in the salty air while catching whole schools of fish to bring back to the docks! You could also have the opportunity to work with a relatively recent invention, the steam locomotive, as it transports various cars full of cargo across the district! Some of the most varied jobs lie within the factories scattered throughout the skyline. You may find yourself working in the cannery, the mulching plant, the tannery, or another of the many factories! Or, you could have the same job that I did, a dockhand. Dockhands spend their days hauling fish and other cargo between the boats and the freight trains. I met many other dockhands during my time at the docks, some of whom remain good friends.
I tell you this because I believe the most important takeaway from my experience at the docks was “find your company.” In a place like Gullwurst, you need a social circle of iron. You not only need friends who are loyal, you need stability.[15] I found my circle of iron in a group of fellow dockhands and other manual laborers known as the “Heavy Handers Club.”[16] Like me, they came to Gullwurst looking for work as they couldn’t find any on the farms back home. We shared the same values, the same experiences, and similar tastes. We’d take our lunch breaks together and, paycheck permitting, we’d head out to Dockend (more to come about this avenue in the next section) to unwind after work. I remember one conversation with my dear friend and fellow “Heavy Hander,” Bill Cartwright. We were taking our lunch break after unloading a successful haul and Bill said, his cap beside him and sandwich in hand, “Ulrich, you ever wonder what’s gonna happen next?” I gave him a puzzled look, “What do you mean?” “Well, just 10 years ago this place was a small village. It’s so unrecognizable now, who knows what could change next. Do you think our towns will end up like this, swallowed by Gullwurst?”[17] I just sat there chewing on my lunch, processing the gravity of that possibility. My rumination was cut off by Bill suddenly jumping up, shouting, “Hey, my hat! Get back here, you rat!” I looked up quickly and saw no sign of any rodents, only Bill chasing after a scruffy young boy with a cap clenched in his hand. I’d heard of rats from Thomas, from Mrs. Jenson, from conversations heard in passing. Only now did I realize what they meant. Children out in the street with no home to stay in, no home they wanted to stay in, or simply wishing to have a little fun outdoors, referred to as pests. I was greeted by visions of my youth where I would joke around with my brothers, run wild, and have some good, old-fashioned dumb fun.[18] I could have been one of those kids if I had the misfortune of being born and raised here, and that made a pit form in my stomach.
Before moving on to the next section, I take a brief aside to impart some additional wisdom. When you live in this city, have a heart for the children. Do not look down on them for their sorry state and do not ostracize them. Help them. In the future those children will grow into our future young men, and I fear what they will become if left behind by us today.[19]
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3: Where to Go for Fun and What to Avoid
Of course, life is more than eating, sleeping, and working. In Gullwurst, there are plenty of things to do in your free time. If you know where to walk, the city can offer some pleasant scenery, especially the copper statue of Ol’ Peter, one of the first fishermen to settle the area. The statue stands at approximately 20 feet and depicts the famous fisherman in the uniform of his trade, fishing pole in his right hand and seagull perched on his left arm (a feature the artist decided to add against public opinion as he thought it looked dignified. It looks completely ridiculous). It is regardless considered by many to be a symbol of the industry that ultimately put Gullwurst on the map. Public houses and sporting clubs are scattered throughout the city’s commercial areas. Each caters to different clientele with particular tastes, so you’re bound to find the place that’s right for you. There are two entertainment hubs in the city, right across from each other with only Ol’ Peter to separate them. Which one you’d prefer depends on the size of your paycheck and personal preference.
The first entertainment street, Dockend (named such in spite of it being nowhere near the docks), was a frequent spot that I and my fellow “Heavy Handers” would go visit. As I’ve mentioned before, it has its fair share of public houses. We’d spend our paychecks at one pub, The Poole, almost every Friday night. Dockend also had a decent theater, admission was relatively cheap and I remember the shows being consistently enjoyable. The only downside was that the theater was often standing room only, and your view of the stage could often be blocked by a crowd of onlookers taller than you. For all of its cheaper thrills and distractions, there is one attraction that supersedes them all, a place that I will never darken the door of again: Caldwin’s Emporium of the Weird. Curiosity got the best of me and my friends when we stepped foot inside. The Emporium contains a range of items in displays that range from mildly unnerving to entirely obscene. For your health, my dear reader, I would strongly advise against entering as it is a waste of both your money and time.
The Fairway is the higher quality, and higher price, variant of Dockend. The first thing you’ll notice in contrast to Dockend when walking through the Fairway is the ground beneath your feet. It is noticeably cleaner. This is because of a sizeable group of volunteers and donors in combination with a conscientious public. The volunteers, funded by the donors, would regularly clear out any stray trash and muck found outside, which wasn’t as prevalent as Dockend’s to begin with.[20] The Fairway contains a variety of sporting clubs, shops, and the grand Atlas Theater. The Atlas Theater is a large wooden structure designed like a miniature covered colosseum, the seating inside is comfortable, and the audience is respectful to the performance and performers. Unfortunately, I regrettably can’t enjoy the performances there as much as I enjoyed the performances at Dockend. They all seem to be some play of Shakespeare’s, and they spent a majority of their time spouting monologue that drones on with no foreseeable conclusion, the action and banter in the forefront of Dockend performances is almost entirely absent here. I’m sure a more well-read person could find enjoyment in these shows, but I personally was left nearly falling asleep in the middle of one. One of the stores along the Fairway is Mervin’s Convenience Store, the dry goods store that my forced roommate, Thomas Finny, works at.
I can’t remember how these circumstances came about anymore, but for one reason or another, I was still getting ready for work while Thomas had already left for his job some time before. I noticed before leaving that Thomas had left his pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. He respected the house rule to not smoke with some complaints and was forced to smoke often when he left the boarding house as a result. Knowing he would be an anxious mess without his much-needed cigarettes,[21] I took them in order to drop them off at his workplace while heading to my own. That mission was what led me to properly explore the Fairway for the first time. While I was searching for Mervin’s, I ran into a well-dressed gentleman. He introduced himself as Gerald Pike, the owner of a local newspaper. I introduced myself in turn and told him about where I’m from and how I came to the city. I can still hear him saying now, “A country man, you say? I’ve been looking for someone with an old farming background to work as an advice columnist. Would you like that job?” And that was how I moved up from the docks to the desk, with a good background and a firm handshake. While the labor and pay were certainly better than my previous job, there was nothing like my old work buddies. In spite of my leaving the heavy labor line of work, I still attend “Heavy Handers” group activities with them to this very day.
4: Socializing with Acquaintances
A regular facet of city life that you may be unfamiliar with is the concept of acquaintances. Often times you will regularly encounter people that you don’t know and never will know very well.[22] Perhaps it’s a fellow boarder that has an opposing schedule to yours, or maybe it’s a self-contained coworker, maybe even a pedestrian you pass on the street regularly. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, you will always encounter people you know nothing about. An unfortunate result of this is the breakdown of trust. If you do not know someone, how can you trust them? And if you cannot trust them, how can you interact? This has resulted in a new basis for trust, the social contract. When interacting with these people, there are unspoken rules and personal boundaries that must never be crossed in polite conversation. Most often, these interactions take on a transactional nature.[23] If you cannot provide something to them, they won’t waste their precious time and energy on you. Each interaction has a hidden cost and payment, and the shrewd individuals of the city observe and balance this social checkbook with tactical precision. This is the basis for the social contract. When two people meet, they now, instead of gaining trust through knowing more of each other (because who has time for that in this environment), subconsciously form an unspoken agreement where costs and gains are defined and tabulated. This contract then becomes as binding as the law, where the breaking of it incurs the severe punishment of social disengagement. On the macro level, the punishment scales up to the size of the group the contract exists between. Disengagement turns to ostracization.
This cold, impersonal social order became all the more apparent to me at my new place of work in the office of The Beacon, Gullwurst’s up and coming newspaper. On my first day, I was promptly ushered to my desk in the back corner of the room, passing other occupied desks with typewriters along the way. Some may have afforded me a passing glance with analyzing eyes, but most remained focused on their work. My days were mostly spent hunched behind that desk writing the advice column for the paper. I wasn’t given much opportunity to talk with my coworkers, even when I tried to say hello in passing all they’d give me was a quick nod or grunt of acknowledgement. Even to this day I know little of my Beacon office coworkers. Did they come here alone like me, do they have families, hobbies, dreams? What makes them want to sit behind that desk and tap the typewriter’s keys? I came to see the letters I was sent for advice to be more human than the men I worked alongside, who day by day looked more conjoined to their machines than the last. Even Mr. Pike, who so graciously offered me this job, became nothing more than a pair of eyes scrutinizing every detail of my work. Unlike the letters, which became more than pieces of paper.
A person’s handwriting can tell a lot about their background, personality, and emotional state. For example, a well-educated young heiress agonizing over a developing crush for one below her station may have a cursive script, writing cleanly and swiftly at a slant. As her feelings for the young man bubble excitedly to the surface, her handwriting gains a lighter and free feel, reflecting the wistful recollection of their meeting. In contrast an older gentleman, a fisherman who plied his trade back when Gullwurst was only a village, writes in a heavier, shakier hand. He worries over the more existential question of whether he will be remembered when he passes on. His glory days of feeding the whole village with his great catch are behind him, and no one today recognizes his name. Ink blots dot the paper where he failed to properly write a word, and pool at the end of lines where he rests his pen to consider what he should write next. My readers would pour their experiences, their fears, their whole beings out onto the letter, and I would respond in turn and guide them the best I can in my replies through the newspaper. Though we never met in person, I felt a connection to these people, like I was an old friend, a brother, maybe even a father figure to some.
The notable exception to my impersonal coworkers was a young boy that everyone in the office called “Mouse.”[24] Mouse was hired here with the promise of being brought up as an apprentice in the newspaper, but more often he would be used by my coworkers and boss as a dedicated errand boy. He would often be sent with little more than a single word denoting a command to fetch something, “Mouse, coffee,” or “Mouse, paper,” being the most common. Outside of these demands, Mouse would be ignored by the rest of the office. When he had nothing to do, he would sit on a stool situated next to my desk. Naturally, we would talk about a variety of things in our free time, things going on in our lives, the news the rest of the office was reporting on, our hopes for the future. We found camaraderie in being the office outcasts, two humans among a company of machines.
5: The Swindlers on Street Corners16Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqhqekh56ou
While leisurely strolling through the city, you may come across a man on the street corner. He tells you about something he has that you absolutely need. Perhaps it’s a cure for baldness, a nice trinket, a valuable tool, or some other item or service he touts as being the best creation since sliced bread.[25] He puts his arm around your shoulder and assures you that he wants to help you, that he can give you this item at a bargain price, that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He entices you with stories establishing the validity of himself and his product, his words are like honey. Without realizing that anything is wrong, you give him the money he asked for, and in doing so fell right for his trap. That anti balding tonic turned out to be common fish oil, the trinket was actually a cheap bobble that cost only 2 cents, the tool doesn’t work at all or breaks, or he simply takes your money and runs. You just fell victim to the scheme of the Confidence Man. Conmen, or swindlers as they are more often called, are experts at the art of deception. They take nest on street corners, in small stalls, in newspaper adverts, and observe their prey carefully. With the care of the most graceful of spiders, they set their trap. And speaking with the boisterousness and conviction to move mountains, they attract their prey inch by inch until they have found the most opportune moment to strike and close the deal, depriving you of your hard-earned wages. The best advice I can offer in recognizing and avoiding swindlers is this: if they make claims of their product that sound too good to be true, then they most likely are. I also would advise you not to believe everything you hear or read. If you possibly can, test or verify any and every piece of information you come across. One who is more aware of what is true and what is false is less likely to fall for the Swindler’s scheme. The conman, as his name suggests, is all confidence. A sharp and discerning mind can easily peel away his confidence like paper, revealing the scam underneath.
To better illustrate the appearance, behavior, and tactics of conmen, I will use an anecdote from my own life. Sometime after securing my new job as a columnist at The Beacon, I felt like I had enough resources to give back to my community at 349 Daringer Street. Recently, I and my fellow boarders had complained about the furniture in the common areas, which was starting to show its age and fall apart. Mrs. Jenson didn’t have the money and time to buy new furniture, so I decided to graciously volunteer to procure the furniture myself. To my seeming great fortune (though I would later realize it to be misfortune) I had seen an advertisement for an upcoming auction on Sap Street, which read as follows.[26]
Notice: At 226 Sap Street.
To Be Auctioned Off Various Chairs, Sofas, Tables,
Of Deceased Wealthy Businessman Gerard M. Gables.
Well Cushioned Antique Furniture In Pristine Condition.
On Aug. 8, 18-- At 3:45 P.M.
When heading to the location in the advertisement, I found the furniture to be auctioned off on a wooden platform on the side of the road, and a mustachioed gentleman wearing a cheap suit standing next to them. He was reading a book titled in gold foiled lettering: “The Keys to Wealth and Success”[27] when I walked up. The man introduced himself as Monsieur J. Diddliere,[28] a Frenchman who was an avid appraiser of antiques.[29] At 3:45, I and a handful of other gentlemen were ready for the auction to begin. It was a close call, whenever I would make a claim, another gentleman would almost immediately raise the price.[30] After the most stressful 5 minutes of my life, I made the offer of $690, most of my savings, and finally secured the entire set of furniture. After moving the furniture into our lodgings at 349 Daringer Street, my fellow boarders and I realized in horror that the furniture was infested with fleas. I was absolutely furious and marched down to Sap Street to demand my money back from Mr. Diddliere. I was laughed off of the street as I was outnumbered by the French population in the area. The civil authority in the area is sorely lacking, and I was offered no assistance when I brought up my complaint with them. It was then that I realized in Gullwurst, you had to solve your own problems.
I had resigned myself to the fate of never seeing my $690 again when I received a letter to my advice column that caught my attention.
Dear Mr. U.M.
From reading your advice column, I believe you are an intelligent and shrewd man. Surely, you know more about this situation than I do. I was taking a stroll along Sap Street when I overheard a man selling a medicinal elixir. He called himself Monsieur Diddliere, a French physician that traveled to Gullwurst to provide his medicine to America. He said it could sooth my aching back and clear my allergies among other health benefits. I was a little suspicious, but he spoke with such conviction and tact, using technical terms that only an expert in his field could utilize. He even offered me a bargain, 3 bottles for the price of 2 ½! I was about to buy but realized I had an engagement that I needed to leave for and promised the good doctor that I would return at a later date to buy the bottles. Now that I have thought about it a little more, I’m not entirely certain if buying the elixir would be as good of an investment as it seems. I would like a second opinion on this, should I buy the medicine or not?
Sincerely, A Concerned Citizen
My blood boiled as I finished reading the letter. I quickly set up my typewriter and shouted my words through the keys, writing with more punch than I ever had before.
To the concerned citizen who wrote to me about buying medicine,
You are very fortunate to have not already bought the vials of “medicinal elixir”, as it is likely no more than fish oil! This Monsieur Diddliere is a cheat and a fraud! Just last week he sold me a set of furniture at an auction that he claimed to be high-quality antiques, which was in fact cheaply produced flea-infested rubbish! Do not buy anything from that man or anyone else on Sap Street, for they are all petty crooks! Snakes, the lot of them! Keep a questioning mind, friend. Do not fall for their vile snares! I trust my response has informed you well. I would advise you and everyone else reading this to avoid Sap Street at all costs, unless you like throwing your hard-earned money away to Vulturous cretins!
Always your faithful guide, U. M.
I had noticed, with some pride, that the edition of The Beacon with my response in it had gripped the attention of the readership in the most marvelous way, their whole being was tensed and engaged, eyes following my every written word. When I had arrived at the office following this delightful observation, Mouse handed me a slip of paper. “A man with a funny voice told me to give this to you Mr. Ulrich, sir.” It was from the French Fraud, Diddliere.[31] He didn’t appreciate my article in this morning’s paper and wished to see me in the Perched Duckling (another public house in Dockend) at sundown. Normally, I would have ignored such an invitation, but something inside of me was looking forward to the opportunity of a potential pub brawl against the conman. I quickly got in contact with my friends in the “Heavy Handers.” I thought it was only right to inform them of the event.
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6: The Importance of Preserving Community
I hope I have adequately prepared you for life in Gullwurst with this guide. If there is one idea you must take, it should be this: preserve the community. What do I mean by community? People and the connections between them. Communities were small but nonetheless thrived in small towns. In cities like Gullwurst, however, people are all too often left drifting further and further apart. So, I implore you, find people and connect with them. Coworkers, the people you live with, those who you pass regularly on the street, talk with them and seek to understand. Forge bonds that will secure you when life tries to trip you up.
To better illustrate the value of community, I will use a shining example of it in action within my own life. The sun was setting behind the Perched Duckling when I met my friends outside. We agreed that I’d walk in first and confront the Frenchman head on, with the rest of the group following me in at my signal. When I cleared the threshold, I searched for my target through the unfamiliar brand of cigarette smoke. He was sitting at a table for two near the back, glaring right at me with the calculating stare of most residents of Gullwurst. I sat down and we casually exchanged insults. I’m not sure if it was the one about my breath or the one about my mother that prompted me to throw the first punch. While exchanging blows with the swindler I caught sight of some other Frenchmen out of the corner of my eye beginning to get up from their seats, I gave the signal, a loud and sharp bird call that those of us from the country around these parts recognized as easily as the national anthem. On queue the rest of the “Heavy Handers” barged into the cramped building to halt the miniature French revolution. Tables were overturned, glass shattered, and everyone lost at least one tooth that day. We had become a man-made storm that couldn’t be contained within the four walls, our brawl quickly escalated to the street outside. Of course, while they did nothing for me before when I was cheated out of $690, the authorities were all too happy to obstruct the natural course of justice by breaking up the fight. All parties involved were fortunately left off with a stern warning. If it weren’t for my dear friends in the “Heavy Handers” club, I may not have been so lucky as to only limp away with a missing molar and a black eye.
This story, I hope, illustrated the necessity of community in order to survive in Gullwurst. It’s a dangerous world out there, and you can’t live in it alone. I leave you with one last piece of advice. Take the small town with you.[32] Yes, this city is different than what any of us have seen before, but that is all the more reason to uphold the values and social structures of our past. For they are the last stronghold against the buffeting winds of this changing age.[33]
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Works Cited
“Capitalism by Gaslight: The Shadow Economies of 19th-Century America (Swindling).” Librarycompany.org, 2026, librarycompany.org/shadoweconomy/section7.htm. Accessed 25 Apr. 2026.
Gamber, Wendy. “Away From Home: Middle-Class Boarders in the Nineteenth-Century City,” Journal of Urban History, vol. 31, no. 3 (March, 2005), 289-305.
Melville, Herman. BARTLEBY the SCRIVENER: A Story of Wall Street. Putnam’s Monthly Magazine, 1853.
Ogle, Maureen. “Water Supply, Waste Disposal, and the Culture of Privatism in the Mid-Nineteenth-Century American City,” Journal of Urban History, vol 25, no. 3 (March, 1999), 321-347.
Riis, Jacob. “The Children of the Poor.” Google Books, 2026, books.google.com/books?id=8nXaAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=riis+the+children+of+the+poor&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwig-d6Rx_DVAhUG6yYKHR1aDfoQ6AEIKDAA#v=onepage&q=riis%20the%20children%20of%20the%20poor&f=false. Accessed 25 Apr. 2026.
[1] When writing this story, I wanted to give it an urban expose feel without leaning too much into the one-sided criticism present in those books, so I could give a more “complete” take on the city as shown in the first part of the course. I wrote Ulric to share both working/lower class and middle-class experiences, tastes, and opinions/ideas.
[2] Not only is this a guidebook for people new to Gullwurst and cities in general, but it also serves as an autobiography of Ulrich’s life in Gullwurst.
[3] The Industrial Revolution resulted in the building of factories and rapid expansion of cities, Gullwurst included.
[4] It is technically called “fish emulsion,” but fish fertilizer is more direct.
[5] By horse (not including rest stops). I am not sure if this is an accurate or realistic distance, as my research did not yield any results on that front. I apologize if this breaks immersion.
[6] The industrial revolution moved jobs from rural areas to factories and production hubs, causing an increase in the concentration of the population.
[7] Ulrich is characterized as having a “moderate” view on housing in cities. While he does not think the housing common in Gullwurst fulfills the definition/values of “home,” he also doesn’t condemn it all as bad or irredeemable. (Gamber, 290)
[8] A consequence of a lack of professional public sanitation. (Ogle, 321-322)
[9] Harper Avenue serves as a combination “Red-light district” and lower/working class housing with the poorest living conditions.
[10] Middle class “home” as opposed to the working-class alternative. (Gamber, 289-290)
[11] A specific presentation of the opposing values of “public” and “private.” (Gamber, 290)
[12] I believe that jobs and technological advances offered by the industrial revolution were the primary causes of the growth of cities.
[13] More of a personal observation than anything specific to this course if I remember correctly. The fact that the end of the gold rush also resulted in a lot of ghost towns also foreshadows the future decline of cities post industrial revolution.
[14] The description is a little fantastical. Ulrich is not the most reliable narrator, as you will see in his positive reflection on jobs in the industrial district.
[15] Stability is important when you’re in an unfamiliar environment that could also change quickly, like a city during the industrial revolution.
[16] A “gang.” Not a criminal one, at least not yet.
[17] Bill is expressing an apprehension for the future, as the entire American population hasn’t experienced cities this size before, the future is completely unknown. The small towns they came from may very well become relics of a bygone age, or at the very least fundamentally changed by the presence of cities.
[18] Like climbing up structures you’re not supposed to and jumping off, playing with/on farming equipment, and more.
[19] Expressing the concern portrayed in Jacob Riis’ The Children of the Poor. Ulrich gives a call of action to the reader, believing it is in the hands of the people to alleviate this problem (value placed in the individual), as opposed to Riis who calls on the government to fix it (value placed in the collective, specifically a governing body). (Riis, 1)
[20] This is the small sanitation reform movement present in The Fairway due to the well-off clientele desiring and being able to afford to do something about the unsanitary conditions. They don’t want to expand their clean up efforts to areas outside of their own as it does not benefit them. (Ogle, 322)
[21] Nicotine addiction, yay! On a more serious note, Thomas developed his addiction due to needing the cigarettes to calm his nerves on a regular basis when living in the densely populated city.
[22] As opposed to smaller towns where everyone knows everyone else.
[23] A criticism shared with Melville’s “Bartleby the Scrivener.” (Melville, pretty much the whole text)
[24] Nicknamed such because of his small size and similarity to the street “rats.”
[25] Like selling cheap prints of art as valuable and claiming a pocket watch is valuable or owned by a famous person when it is not. (“Capitalism by Gaslight: The Shadow Economies of 19th-Century America (Swindling)”)
[26] The false advertisement claims that the furniture is high quality and from a wealthy man, a common tactic for auction scams. (“Capitalism by Gaslight: The Shadow Economies of 19th-Century America (Swindling)”)
[27] This implies that the scammer also got scammed himself by one of those get rich quick books. (“Capitalism by Gaslight: The Shadow Economies of 19th-Century America (Swindling)”)
[28] Meant to be a reference to the word “Diddler,” an old slang term for swindlers. (“Capitalism by Gaslight: The Shadow Economies of 19th-Century America (Swindling)”)
[29] Gullwurst has a French immigrant population.
[30] Another tactic to inflate the price. (“Capitalism by Gaslight: The Shadow Economies of 19th-Century America (Swindling)”)
[31] Ulric may have become a tad racist thanks in part to Diddliere’s scam.
[32] Specifically, take the values and social structure of the small town with you.
[33] Ulrich’s final message is in response to the concerns about the city brought up earlier in the guidebook. It is similar in nature to the response held by various reformers and reform movements talked about in this course, bring back and preserve the community of the small town in some shape or form. Two examples of this that come to mind are the formation of the suburbs and Jane Jacobs’s reform efforts.
and then Add to home screen.