A TRIO OF FEMALE SWINDLERS.

About twelve-month since, an old widow lady opened a boarding-house on University place, investing in the establishment and furniture all her capital. She experienced no difficulty in obtaining boarders, and among her guests she numbered a small-sized, full-faced, but keen-eyed woman by the name of Agnes S. who rented a large room on the second floor. This Mrs. S. exhausted all her wiles to gain the friendship of the landlady, and succeeded in so doing. In a short time, she became the inseparable companion and intimate of the old widow, who never took any step of importance without first consulting her dear Agnes. The "dear Agnes" improved her intimacy and played her cards so well, that although she never paid her board, she was never requested to do so, and thus enjoyed the unenviable advantage of being enabled to live rent free. Having accomplished her first object, she now undertook to achieve her second. One day she sought the widow, and in a fit of gushingly-tender confidence revealed to her sympathizing friend her heart history; she told the widow that although passing for a maiden, she was in reality a married woman—but that her husband had been obliged to conceal himself from the gaze of the public owing to some 'unfortunate' business transactions in which he had been involved, solely for the sake of his brother out West.

Would she (the widow) not receive that husband, for her sake into the house? Would she not consent to harbor the poor unfortunate partner of her bosom beneath her roof until the matter had blown over? The doting widow agreed to this proposal, and thus Agnes S. and her 'husband' (who was in reality no more her husband than any man who reads this) were united, and lived for several weeks in luxury at the widow's expense; although great scandal arose among her boarders concerning the matter, and several of her 'best paying lodgers' left in consequence of these 'developments.' At last the widow was taken sick, and then 'having cast her bread upon the waters, she found it after many days,' and found it 'toasted.' From the hour of her taking to her bed, 'Agnes S. and husband' ruled the house. The worthy pair run the establishment, hired and discharged the servants, acted as steward and stewardess, and not only so, but absolutely made out the weekly bills and collected them; and not only collected them, but put the money into their own pockets.

"Last Thursday week the matter culminated by the sudden departure of Agnes S. and husband from the house in University place to unknown localities. Their 'little game' was effectually 'played out,' and the landlady at last recovered her health and common sense. But the adventurous birds had feathered their nests, and have only subsided for a while, to resume, in all probability, their 'genteel swindles' in some other city, or perhaps only in another portion of this very metropolis."

"The second of these worthies we shall call Mrs. Adelle Garnier. She is a stout creature, but endowed with a large share of good looks and dignity of manner. She has for years past resided in fashionable hotels, and has contrived to live on her 'face' in more senses than one. She is specially noticeable for three facts which have been abundantly exemplified in her career. First, she is a remarkably well educated woman, an accomplished linguist, speaking fluently, French, German and Italian, a skilled performer on the piano, and thoroughly versed in the literature of the day. Second, she has always exhibited a dislike, amounting almost to horror, of matrimony; and although she has, during her eventful history, received several advantageous offers of marriage, has declined them all, objecting decidedly to having her personal movements restrained in any degree by the will of any being on earth, not even a husband. Third, and last, and most remarkable of all, spite of her education and talent, spite of her matrimonial chances, she has steadily persisted in a course of life which has subjected her constantly to a long series of indignities, apparently preferring a wild, careless, lawless and scandalous Bohemianism to the sober routine and conventional demands of a modern lady's ordinary existence. Her last 'adventure' occurred some few weeks since at a Broadway hotel, from which she was expelled at a very short notice by the proprietors in presence of a number of the guests. It is presumed that at present she is almost penniless, though no one can safely predicate at what place or in what guise she may appear hereafter. For an adventurer, like a cat, has nine lives."

"The third, Miss Alice Mauley, is a petite blonde of fascinating manners, with large blue eyes, and a luxuriant wealth of hair. Alice has been a 'pilgrim and a stranger' in the cities of Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore and St. Louis, since her sixteenth year, and has 'enjoyed' the privilege of a large circle of acquaintance—the police of these cities included. Her mode of life verges on the 'sentimental,' and her peculiar forte is entrapping the affections of 'young bloods.' She cares not for 'love,' so-called, and is, in herself, chaste and irreproachable in morale; but she devotes her energies to procuring all the money, jewelry, diamonds and presents she can obtain from her 'enamored ones' prior to their 'proposals for her hand.' She, then, 'astonished at their mistaken presumption,' leaves them to regret their folly, but never by any chance returns their presents. She recently and seriously 'compromised' the prospects of the only son and heir of a wealthy merchant of the metropolis, from whom she obtained some ten thousand dollars worth of 'tokens' and 'souvenirs.' But, owing to the exertions and worldly acumen of the young fool's papa, she has been obliged to leave New York, and has within the last few days been heard of from Cincinnati."