The advertisements alone are pregnant with suggestions of the past--colour, atmosphere, the subtle fragrance and flavour of other days.

We read that James Anderson of Broadway has just arrived from London "in the brig Betsy" with a load of "the best finished boot legs." Another gentleman urges people to inspect his "crooked tortoise-shell combs for ladies and gentlemen's hair, his vegetable face powder--his nervous essence for the toothache, his bergamot, lemon, lavendar and thyme"-- and other commodities.
Sales were advertised of such mixed assortments as the following: "For Sale: "A negro wench.
"An elegant chariot.
"Geneva in pipes, cloves, steel, heart and club, scale beams, cotton in bales, Tenerisse wines in pipes, and quarter casks." In several old papers you find that two camels were to be seen in a certain stable, at a shilling a head for adults and sixpence for children.

The camels were a novelty and highly popular.
Take this item, for instance, from the good old _Daily Advertiser_, chronicler of the big and little things of Manhattan's early days.

It gives a fine example of old-style journalism.

Observe the ingenuity with which a page of narrative is twisted into the first sentence.