Stephen H. Branch's Alligator, Vol. 1 no. 14, July 24, 1858

The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
The miser Harpers still Harping on the Dimes—The self-degradation and downfall of the Harpers, who “played on the Harp of a thou- sand strings—sperrits of just men made perfic!”
John Harper —Brothers: These are desperate times.
Wesley Harper —Yes, and something must soon be done, or we must again suspend.
Fletcher Harper —That’s so.
Evil Genius —Go ahead!
Good Genius —Beware!
Jack —Our stock in the Courier and Enquirer don’t pay. We have had the best place and the largest type in the columns of that Journal for 20 years, and I tell you, brothers, it don’t pay. While young Fletch had stock in the Times , we had the best place, and the biggest type, but you all know it didn’t pay. Nor do any of the public journals yield a fair return for our enormous advertising investments.
Jim —Jack: What in the devil are you driving at? Upon my soul, you positively alarm me. Why, I declare, I never saw your eyes roll so, nor your jaws close so fiercely, nor your fist fall so heavily on your knee. Now, for the Lord’s sake, do disclose, in common parlance, what you mean by your mysterious declamation. (Wesley takes out his pen knife, and cuts his nails, and Fletcher takes a fresh cud of tobacco, and crosses his legs.)
Jack —I have had an interview with James Gordon Bennett.
Jim —Fletch: Hand me that fan. Wes: Please open the window. Sam: Bring me a glass of ice water. Now, Jack, proceed.
Jack —Bennett spoke of other days, and inquired after our health.