the

people, as will be seen by this old story about the bottle conjuror. Of late years younger part of our people are gulled or hoaxed by swallowers of fire and balls of cotton, and rolls of ribbon, and their raree shows get more money from the boys' pocket than he can always call his But I will proceed to give you the story of the Bottle Conjuror.

own.

On Monday the 16th of January 1749, it was announced by newspaper advertisement that a person on that evening, at the theatre royal, Haymarket, London, would play on a common walking cane the music of every instrument then in use; that he would on the stage get into a tavern quart bottle, without equivocation, and while there sing several songs, and suffer any spectator to handle the bottle; that if any spectator came masked he would, if desired, declare who he was; that, in a private room, he would produce the representation of any person dead, with whom the party requesting it should converse some minutes as if alive; that the performance would begin at half past six; and that a guard would be placed at the doors to preserve order.

This advertisement assembled an immense audience, who waited till seven o'clock, and then becoming impatient and vociferous, a person came before the curtain and declared, that if the performer did not appear, the money should be returned. Afterwards, a voice behind the curtain cried out that the performer had not arrived, but, if the audience would stay till the next evening, instead of go

ing into a quart bottle, he would get into a pint. A tumult then commenced, by the throwing of a lighted candle from one of the boxes on to the stage. The inte rior of the theatre was torn down and burnt in the street, and a flag, made of the stage curtain, was placed on a pole, in the midst of the bonfire. During the riot, the entrance money, which had been secured in a box, according to contract with the proprietors of the theatre, was carried away. Several persons of high rank were present, and pickpockets obtained a rich booty.

The manager of the theatre published a letter the Wednesday after, disavowing all connivance with the impostor, and stating that the person who took the theåtre was a man of genteel appearance, and called his name William Nichols ; and proposed, that as the performance was so very extraordinary, there should be a receiver of the proprietor's own appointment at the office, and in case there should be no performance, or any notorious equivocation, that the money should be returned. All this caution was taken, and the money locked up in the office, guarded by persons of reputation, who would have returned it; but, he continues, ' my house was pulled down, the office broken open, the money taken out, and the servants obliged to fly for their lives.'

The secret history of the imposture was never discovered to the public, but it was rumored that the affair originated in a wager proposed by a well-known rakish

" FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY. Felix Downjumpthroatum, the emperor of all the conjurors, begs leave to announce to the nobility, gentry, and inhabitants, that he has just arrived with five Arabian Conjurors, which he intends to exhibit for this night only. Any attempt to describe their extraordinary perform ances must be needless, as the proprietor flatters himself that they must be seen to be believed. They are all brothers by the same father their names, Muley, Benassar, Abdallah, Mustapha, and Suckee. At the conclusion of their neveryet-equalled feats of sleight of hand, legerdemain, &c. &c. they will each take a lighted torch in either hand, when lo! incredible to relate! Suckee, with the burning torches, will jump clean down Mustapha's throat, who, in an instant, with equal dexterity, will pass down the throat of Abdallah, then Abdallah will jump down that of Benassar, and Benassar down his brother Muley's; who, lastly, notwithstanding he is encumbered with his four brothers and their eight torches, will throw a flip-flap somerset down his own throat, and leave the audience in total darkness !'

The promised wonders drew crowds of rustics to gape at them, and the room was literally crammed; but, five minutes before the time fixed for commencing, the conjuror decamped with the money, and was no more heard of-probably he jumped down his own throat.

In Boston, about ten years ago, a conjuror had been performing for a number

of weeks at Concert hall, and, his auditors beginning to lessen considerably, he concluded to finish off with a grand flourish, and accordingly announced his intention in a flaming great bill, which he had posted all over the city. He was to execute all the usual feats of jugglers, such as swallowing swords, transforming watches into eggs, eggs into pancakes, pancakes into hemp and hemp into ribbons; as well as the numberless other common tricks; and then came the great burster of all, which he called the Ne Plus Ultra, and the last night of his ap pearance in Boston, namely, he would take a lady's handkerchief and order it to go into any parlour, church, or belfry in the city, and would have a coach at the door to convey any of the audience who would go after it and bring it back.

The hall was full at an early hour; the juggler went through his legerdemain ; the carriage stood at the street door; he requested the loan of a handkerchief; a lady handed him one, which he opened and flourished about, and asked the audience where it should be sent. Some said one place, some another, but he heard only the belfry of the catholic church. So after repeating all the lingo necessary to transport the handkerchief to its destination, presto, it was gone, and his hand was empty. Now, ladies and gentlemen, said the conjuror, who will go after the handkerchief? and lo, four gentlemen volunteered and went upon the fool's errand. The man amused the audience till their return, which was pretty soon ;

when they reported that the bishop forbad their going into his belfry; and rather laughed at their wise request. Now began a rumpus, stamping and hooting; the juggler stood his ground, telling the audience that the handkerchief was certainly in the bell, if they could get at it. And it was not till an honorable gentleman

obtained a few minutes' silence to say to crowd, that they ought not to blame the performer, for they all came there to be deceived, and deceived they were pretty nicely, that the company was dispersed. The juggler told the lady that she should have her handkerchief tomorrow, when he would get it from the bishop.

MY young readers may like to hear

something about Boston and NewEngland more than two hundred years ago, when inhabited by Indian warriors and their families.* The Indians of that

*The great elm on Boston Common is perhapa 3 or 400 years old, and no doubt yielded shade and shelter to the children of the red man. The oldest of the other trees in Boston have stood in their present positions about 100 years. Liberty Tree, at the corner of Washington and Essex streets, destroyed by the British troops in 1775, was M VOL. VIII. JUNE, 1840.

time were very much like those of the present day who have visited us from the Penobscot tribe, the Sac and Fox tribe, the Gayhead Indians in Dukes-County, &c.; but we have seen or heard very little about Indian women and Indian children. I am therefore going to give you an old letter, written about the year 1632, from William Wood, one of the first settlers of New England to his friend in Old England. From this old story it would appear that the milder virtues of modesty and benevolence, patient industry, forbearance, meekness, and love, existed as largely in a wigwam as in a palace, so far as the poor Indian woman's limited sphere of influence extended.

Captain Smith, the governor over the first settlers of Virginia, when taken prisoner and doomed to death (1609), was saved, after the hatchet was raised to destroy

planted (according to the Pemberton MS.) in 1646, nearAn elm in Court-street, and another ly 200 years ago. at the corner of Washington and Castle-street, which were cut down in the midst of vigor and luxuriance a few years ago, it is presumed were growing previous to the year 1630, when Boston or Shawmut was purchased.