you could furnish me
with a--something--ahem--that might enable me to gain, or rather to
restore his affections--for I think he was fond of me some few months
ago--I would not grudge whatever the payment might be."

"You mean a philter?"

"I believe that is what it is called, sir."

"Well, madam, you shall be supplied with a philter that never fails, on
the payment ol twenty-one shillings. This, philter, madam, will not only
make him fond of you before marriage, but will secure his affections
during life, increasing them day by day, so that every month of your
lives will be a delicious honeymoon. There is another bottle at the same
price; it may not, indeed, be necessary for you, but I can assure you
that it has made many families happy where there had been previously
but little prospect of happiness; the price is the same--twenty-one
shillings."

Up went the spectral fan again, and out came the forty-two shillings,
and, with a formal courtesy, the venerable old maid walked away with the
two bottles of aqua pura in her pocket.

Now came the test for the conjurer's knowledge--the sharp and unexpected
trial of his skill and sagacity. After the old maid had taken her leave,
possessed of the two bottles, a middle-aged, large-sized woman walked
in, and, after making a low courtesy, sat down as she had been desired.
The conjurer glanced keenly at her, and something like a smile might be
seen to settle upon his features; it was so slight, however, that the
good woman did not notice it.

"Pray, what's the object of your visit to me, may I ask?"

"My husband, sir--he runn'd away from me, sure."

"Small blame to him," replied the conjurer. "If I had such a wife I
would not remain a single hour in her company."

"And is that the tratement you give a heart-broken and desarted crature
like me?"

"Come, what made him run away from you?"

"In regard, sir, of a dislike he took to me."

"That was a proof that the man had some taste."

"Ay, but why hadn't he that taste afore he married me?"

"It was very well that he had it afterwards--better late than never."

"I want you to tell me where he is."

"What family have you?"

"Seven small childre that's now fatherless, I may say."

"What kind of a man was your husband?"

"Why, indeed, as handsome a vagabone as you'd see in a day's
travellin'."

"Mention his name; I can tell you nothing till I hear it."

"He's called Rantin' Rody, the thief, and a great schamer he