s, namely;--If the manufacturers of New England wanted to
give money to the Sanitary Commission, they would give money; if goods,
they would give goods. They certainly would not put their gifts through
the additional roundabout, useless nonsense of a lottery, which is to
turn over only the same amount of funds to the Commission.
The next document is a circular sent from a Western town by a fellow who
claims also to be a master of arts, doctor of medicines, and doctor of
laws, but whose handwriting and language are those of a stable-boy. This
chap sends round a list of two hundred and fifty recipes at various
prices, from twenty-five cents to a dollar each. Send him the money for
any you wish, and he promises to return you the directions for making
the stuff. You are then to go about and peddle it, and swiftly become
independently rich. You can begin with a dollar, he says; in two days
make fifty dollars, and then sweep on in a grand career of affluence,
making from $75 to $200 a day, "if you are industrious." What is
petroleum to this? It is a mercy that we don't all turn to and peddle to
each other; we should all get too rich to speak!
The fellow, out of pure kindness and desire for your good, recommends
you to buy all his recipes, as then you will be sure to sell something
to everybody. Most of these recipes are for sufficiently harmless
purposes--shaving-soap, cement, inks--"five gallons of good ink for
fifteen cents"--tooth-powders, etc. Some of them are arrant nonsense;
such as "tea--better than the Chinese," which is as if he promised
something wetter than water; "to make thieves' vinegar;" "prismatic
diamond crystals for windows;" "to make yellow butter"--is the butter
blue where the man lives? Others are of a sort calculated to attract
foolish rustic rascals who would like to gain an easy living by
cheating, if they were only smart enough. Thus, there is "Rothschild's
great secret; or how to make common gold." My readers shall have a
better recipe than this swindler's--work hard, think hard, be honest,
and spend little--this will "make common gold," and this is all the
secret Rothschild ever had. A number of these recipes are barefaced
quackeries; such as cures for consumption, cancer, rheumatism, and
sundry other diseases; to make whiskers and mustaches grow--ah, boys,
you can't hurry up those things. Greasing your cheeks is just as good as
trying to whistle the hair out, but not a bit better. Don't hurry; yo
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