Never since the last San Francisco Vigilance Committee had the office
been so besieged. The editor, foreman, and even the apprentice, were
buttonholed and "treated" at the bar, but to no effect. All that could
be learned was that it was a bona fide advertisement, for which one
hundred dollars had been received! There were great discussions and
conflicting theories as to whether the value of the wife, or the
husband's anxiety to get rid of her, justified the enormous expense and
ostentatious display. She was supposed to be an exceedingly beautiful
woman by some, by others a perfect Sycorax; in one breath Mr. Dimmidge
was a weak, uxorious spouse, wasting his substance on a creature who did
not care for him, and in another a maddened, distracted, henpecked man,
content to purchase peace and rest at any price. Certainly, never was
advertisement more effective in its publicity, or cheaper in proportion
to the circulation it commanded. It was copied throughout the whole
Pacific slope; mighty San Francisco papers described its size and
setting under the attractive headline, "How they Advertise a Wife in the
Mountains!" It reappeared in the Eastern journals, under the title of
"Whimsicalities of the Western Press.
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