us swindles [it is wrong to call them humbugs] now extant. They
also prove that there are a good many more fools alive in our Great
Republic than some of us would like to admit.

These letters and papers are signed, respectively, by the following
names: Alexander Van Dusen; Thomas Boult & Co.; E. F. Mayo; Geo. P.
Harper; Browne, Sherman & Co.; Hammett & Co.; Charles A. Herbert; Geo.
C. Kenneth; T. Seymour & Co.; C. W. White, Purchasing Agency; C. J.
Darlington; B. H. Robb & Co.; James Conway; S. B. Goodrich; Egerton
Brothers; C. F. Miner; E. J. Kimball; E. A. Wilson; and J. T. Small.

All these productions, with one or two exceptions, are dated during the
last three months of 1864, and January 1865. They are mailed from a good
many different places, and addressed to respectable people in all
directions.

In particular, should be noticed, however, two lots of them.

The first lot are signed either by Thomas Boult & Co., Hammett & Co.,
Egerton Brothers, or T. Seymour & Co. When these four documents are
placed together, each with its inclosure, a story is told that seems
clear enough to explain itself to the greenest fool in the world.

These fellows--Boult and the rest of them, I mean--are lottery sharks.
Now, those who buy lottery tickets are very silly and credulous, or very
lazy, or both. They want to get money without earning it. This foolish
and vicious wish, however, betrays them into the hands of these lottery
sharks. I wish that each of these poor foolish, greedy creatures could
study on this set of letters awhile. Look at them. You see that the
lithographed handwriting in all four is in the same hand. You observe
that each of them incloses a printed hand-bill with "scheme," all
looking as like as so many peas. They refer, you see, to the same
"Havana scheme," the same "Shelby College Lottery," the same "managers,"
and the same place of drawing. Now, see what they say. Each knave tells
his fool his only object is to put said fool in possession of a handsome
prize, so that fool may run round and show the money, and rope in more
fools. What an ingenious way to make the fool think he will return value
for the prize! Each knave further says to his fool (I copy the words of
the knave from his lithograph letter:) "We are so certain that we know
how to select a lucky certificate, that if the one we select for you
does not, at the very least, draw a $5,000 prize, we will"--what? Pay
the money ourselves? Oh no. Knave d