" It was believed to have crossed
to England as a specimen of "Transatlantic Savagery." The real editor
of the "Clarion" awoke one morning, in San Francisco, to find his paper
famous. Its advertising columns were eagerly sought for; he at once
advanced the rates. People bought successive issues to gaze upon this
monumental record of extravagance. A singular idea, which, however,
brought further fortune to the paper, was advanced by an astute critic
at the Eureka Saloon. "My opinion, gentlemen, is that the whole blamed
thing is a bluff! There ain't no Mr. Dimmidge; there ain't no Mrs.
Dimmidge; there ain't no desertion! The whole rotten thing is an
ADVERTISEMENT o' suthin'! Ye'll find afore ye get through with it
that that there wife won't come back until that blamed husband buys
Somebody's Soap, or treats her to Somebody's particular Starch or Patent
Medicine! Ye jest watch and see!" The idea was startling, and seized
upon the mercantile mind. The principal merchant of the town, and
purveyor to the mining settlements beyond, appeared the next morning at
the office of the "Clarion.
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