The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1877-11-01
NUMBER 80.
Heller and the Hackman.

Boston Traveller.i
When Heller,-th magician, arrived in
this city on Friday last, he directed the
hackman to drive him to the Parker
House. Reaching the hotel he stepped
briskly up to the clerks desk, and was
soon surrounded by host of old friends,
including DIR. Tompkins, of the Boston
Theater, Arthur Cheney, Henry c. Jar
rett, Frank Chanfrau, and dozen 9TH
ers. Amid the hearty greetings came a
rough voice, which soon attracted gen.
raj attention.
1t appears that the hackman hadn't
been paid.
"What is it, my good friend; what
are you yelling to me about?" demanded
Mr.. Heller.
81 want me fare. l saw you skip
away. Two dollars for you and the
lady"
This answer created laugh among the
magician's friends.
81 know paid you, you rascal" ex.
claimed Mr.. Heller.
"Divil -eint.o-.
you put it in your hat. Hand it to
me p' and to the CONSERVATION of Jehu
there was bright, clean twO-dOllar note
taken from the lining of his cady, and
held up to the gaze of the rapidly in
creasing crowd. Cabby stood transfixed
with wonder.
81 am afraid of your future, my poor
fellow, and advise you to alter your
course" interposed Mr.. Jarrett.
"Be virtuous and you'll be happy
was the advice of Mr. Cheney.
"This after all our boasted New Eng.
land civilization and moral advance.
mentp added Mr.. Chanfrau.
eff this thing should get abroad p'
was DIR. Tompkins' alarming exclama
ton.
"Think of your wife and children
Repent ere it be too late," was the
kindly-toned proposition of Mr.. Heller.
Look here, gintlemen, this is al
good enough, and yez hev me tanks
But may 1 niver see sixpence agair
but | wasn't paid, and that bill / nivel
saw before in all my born days. didn'r
have clint about me" and the indig
nant hackman slapped his hands on hi
coat pockets.
"You have no other money on you
person?" demanded Mr.. Heller.
"No, STRIP said the driver unhesitat
ingly:
"What's this, and this, and this, ant
this, inquired the magician, as he delib
erately pulled bank note, first from tn
poor cabman's side coat pocket, thel
one from his coat cuff, another from hi
pantaloons' pocket and another from hi
boot top. "My friend" continued Mr.
Heller, in voice softened by swellin,
emotions, while the crowd moaned witt
excess of sorrow over the sad exhibition
of human depravity, "you are not ye
lost, but you are ON the brink of ruin
We all feel for you, don't we, gentle
menT And groans came in response
"Look here, my friends" cried tn
hackman, this here things played out
Pm not the worst man in the wurrld,
when to his utter horror the magicia
interrupted him to take from his Goa
pockets, hat, trousers and boot tops nc
only greenbacks and plenty of silve
coin, but pens, blotting paper, matches
blank cards, and the general invoice G
stationery usually to be found on hott
desk.
"Man, who are you anyhow" erie
the poor fellow, as he crossed himsel
and commenced to back out.
Harkshaw, the Detectivew shoute
Jarret, as he struck an attitude.
My name is Norval," replied M
Heller.
! "Tis ClifFord's voice, if ever Cliffor
, spoke" added Mr.. Cheney.
" am thy fathers spirit" groaned NJ
Chanfrau. And by this time the pc
turbed driver had reached the stree
shouts of laughter falling on his ear
and with another surprise awaiting hir
, Mr.. Heller had placed $5 note in tt
mans vest pocket.