Australian Tales - Setis

stimulus, the dread of losing their money, it would have taken a good
many knowing ones to have stopped them, and world-wide mischief
would have resulted.”
I was in the midst of at least a thousand dupes, on Blackfriars Bridge,
one moonlight night many years ago. We were all intently gazing at the
muddy water below, not one of us knowing what we were looking for.
The most absurd speculations passed from one to another, though
nothing tangible could be seen but the dark river, dotted with coal barges
and dredging machines. I remember I caught cold, and had my pockets
picked; and I dare say many pockets were picked besides mine. In a day
or two it transpired, that some practical joker had made a large wager,
that he would collect a crowd on three of the bridges of London within a
given time; and he won triumphantly. The scheme he adopted was
wonderfully simple, so were the people who were attracted by it.
Stationing himself on a conspicucus part of the bridge, and looking over
the parapet, he exclaimed in a loud key, “Hallo! there it is!” at the same
time pointing to the river. After a minute's pause, he shouted with
increased gesticulation, “Look, look! There it is again!” The passengers
stopped to gaze and wonder, and a crowd soon gathered, each one
eagerly inquiring of his neighbour “what was to be seen,” while all sorts
of rare objects were suggested, from mudlarks to mermaids. In the
meantime the joker slipped away, got into a cab, and drove to another
bridge, to repeat the trick. He succeeded in attracting three immense
crowds within the specified time — a few hours — thus strikingly
exemplifying the old adage, that “One fool makes many.”
Not much wiser than those gaping crowds, were some of the
inhabitants of a certain suburb, who were recently deluded into the belief
that one of our local banks was going to break. The rumour — I am
told — was raised by certain panic-mongers, who hoped to make a little
money by buying up the notes at a discount, regardless of the widespread
mischief that might ensue. The growing uneasiness was, however,
quickly allayed, by a tradesman of influence in the neighbourhood
offering to give twenty shillings for every pound note of the said bank;
for which timely exhibition of sound sense, and good feeling, he
deserves a general vote of thanks.
A few days ago a nervous gentleman brought me some startling reports
about another banking establishment in this city. After he had calmed
down a little, I ascertained that his fears had been aroused by overhearing
the defamatory conversation of two persons in an omnibus, one of whom
was drunk.
“Now tell me candidly, Mr. Boomerang, if you had £500 in that bank,
what should you do?” asked my fidgetty friend, his eyes looking like bad
shillings, for want of sleep.
“I should be very glad,” I replied.