Jasper Republican, Volume 1, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 October 1874 — A Sharp Swindler. [ARTICLE]

A Sharp Swindler.

This is the way George Davis, a smooth-tongued young man, whose forging operations were recently noticed in the Bridgeport Standard, “ came it” over a shrewd merchant in New Haven: Passing along the street in that city he saw at a fruit store a basket of fine fresh oranges, and bought them, basket and all. Then, taking the basket in his hand, he started down the street, and stepping into a well-known store he said: “Mr. Bishop, here is a basket of fine oranges which I have the honor of presenting to you. They are samples of a cargo I have at the wharf which I wish to get discharged to-day, but am short of cash. I have plenty of good paper in the shape of notes, etc., which I would be willing to leave as collateral for a small amount of cash which I must have to get the fruit through.” Mr. Bishop looked at the notes (a whole handful being shown by Davis) and then at the basket of luscious oranges. “ The collateral” seemed sound as well as ample, the fruit palatable and tempting, and his generosity was stirred to the very depths. A man who could show a pocketful of notes and present a basketful of oranges, although a stranger, or comparatively so, was not a person to be kicked out of doors when in distress fpr want of a few dollars in ready money. So, turning to Mr. Davis, Mr. Bishop says, “ How much cash will it take to get your cargo discharged?” “About $300,” says Davis. Thereupon Mr. Bishop turned to his desk and drawing a check for S3OO handed it to Davis, who, leaving his collaterals, departed, but not to get his oranges ashore. The “ originals” were not to be found, and of course Mr. Bishop had to pocket the loss. Davis made haste to get out of town after getting the check cashed, and has not taken the trouble since to call and inquire what disposition his victim made of the notes he left as collateral for the check.

They tell a tough story about two sagacious mules out in Virginia City, Nev. The mules were as good as can be made. Hank Blanchard, their owner, was driving them one day, with a friend—Fagan —in the wagon. The mules came to a place and stopped and refused to move a step further. They both looked toward the roadside. Hank looked, too, and saw what was the matter with the mules. There was a sign there, which read: “Hay $23 a ton,” the regular price being $25. Hank got out of the wagon, went and talked to the man of the sign, came back and told Fagan that he had ordered ten tons of that hay at greatly reduced rates, and that his mules might consider themselves in clover. He got into the wagon, and the mules trotted briskly off. Hank and Fagan suppressed their laughter for obvious reasons. The mules will doubtless seize the first opportunity to kick Hank to death for lying. —A. New York State Quaker was found in a patch of grass behind a fence, looking at a circus procession, and he turned it off by saying: “Friend, hast thee seen the king-bolt' of my wagon around here!” —The cream which rises first makes a better quality of butter than that which rises last.