" He passes the order over to
Blowers, who, having examined it very cautiously, says: "Forgery,
forgery!-'tis, by the Eternal!" Turning his fat sides, he approaches
the window, and by the light reads each successive word. It is
written in a scrawl precisely like his own; but, forsooth, it cannot
be his. However, deeming it little becoming a man of his standing to
parley with Broadman, he quickly makes his exit, and, like a
locomotive at half speed, exhausting his perturbation the while,
does he seek his way into the city, where he discovers his loss to
the police. We have in another part of our history described Blowers
as something of a wag; indeed, waggery was not the least trait in
his curious character, nor was he at all cautious in the exercise of
it; and, upon the principle that those who give must take, did he
render himself a fit object for those who indulge in that sort of
pastime to level their wit upon. On this occasion, Blowers had not
spent many hours in the city ere he had all its convenient corners
very fantastically decorated with large blue placards, whereon was
inscribed the loss of his valuable woman, and the offer of the
increased sum of four hundred dollars for her apprehension. The
placards were wonderful curiosities, and very characteristic of
Blowers, who in this instance excited no small amount of merriment
among the city wags, each of whom cracked a joke at his expense. Now
it was not that those waggish spirits said of his placard things
exceedingly annoying to his sensitive feelings, but that every prig
made him the butt of his borrowed wit.
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