her customer to give her the first letter of his true
love's name. He, unabashed by the unexpected demand, with great
presence of mind promptly invented a sweetheart on the spot, and
extemporized a name for her before the question was repeated.
Then the mysterious Madame required his own initial, which, being
obtained, she wrote the two on slips of paper with some mystic
figures appended, in manner following. E., 17; M., 24. Then she
shiveringly whispered:

"You must do as I told you with the powders before eleven o'clock
to-night, for between the hours of eleven and twelve I shall boil
your name and hers in herbs which will draw her to you, and she
can't help herself but will be tender and true, and will be yours
and yours only. When she is drawed to you then you must marry
her."

The anxious inquirer promised obedience, and agreed to give the
powders as per prescription, before the midnight cookery should
commence, paid his dollar (fifty cents for the consultation and a
like sum for the love-powders), and made his exit with a
comprehensive bow, which included the Madame, the bony petticoats,
the beer-bottle, and the fast-vanishing remains of the single
tallow-candle in one reverential farewell.

CHAPTER XII.

Wherein are inscribed all the particulars of a visit to the
"Gipsy Girl," of No. 207, Third Avenue, with an allusion to Gin,
and other luxuries dear to the heart of that beautiful Rover.

CHAPTER XII.

THE GIPSY GIRL.

There is much less affectation of high-flown and lofty-sounding
names among the ladies of the black-art mysteries, than might
very naturally be expected. Most of them are content with plain
"Madame" Smith, or unadorned "Mrs." Jones, and "The Gipsy Girl"
is almost the only exception to this rule that is to be
encountered among all the fortune-tellers of the city.

This arises from no poverty of invention on their part, but from
a sound conviction that in this case, simplicity is an element of
sound policy. There has been no lack of "mysteriously gifted
prophetesses," and of "astonishing star readers;" there have
been, I believe, within the last few years, a "Daughter of
Saturn," and a "Sorceress of the Silver Girdle;" and once the
"Queen of the Seven Mysteries" condescended to sojourn in Gotham
for five weeks, but on the whole it has been found that a more
modest title pays better. To be sure, the "Daughter of Saturn"
was tried for conspiring with two other persons to swin