"CROESUS" has vanished! We can scarcely find it in our heart to
add anything to this distressing statement; but for the sake of our
readers whom he may have induced to patronise his financial schemes,
we give a few slight details of the disaster.

[Illustration: Portrait of "Croesus."]

Four days ago enormous piles of letters began to arrive at our office.
They were addressed to "CROESUS," and had been sent on to us from
his last address marked "gone away; try office of _Punch_." We opened
them. They were all threatening letters.

"Why," wrote one angry gentleman, "have I heard nothing from you since
I sent you my cheque for £10,000? Unless I receive a reply within a
week, legal proceedings will be taken." The rest were similar in
tone. Thereupon we resolved to call at the last address given to us by
"CROESUS." It was somewhere in the Mile End Road. We arrived, entered,
ascended the stairs, and found in a dingy back bed-room, three used
half-penny stamps, a false nose, a pair of whiskers, and a large sheet
of paper on which were written only these words: "Sold Again"--which
obviously referred to some financial scheme or other. On inquiring of
the landlady, we heard that her lodger had departed two days before,
taking with him two large and heavy wooden chests. He had promised
to return. We then consulted the police. They are very reticent, but
consider they have got a clue.

And here we owe it to our readers to make a confession. We have never
set eyes on "CROESUS." We engaged him entirely on the strength of
the most glowing recommendations from a whole bevy of Bank-Managers,
including the Managers of the Bank of Lavajelli, of the Pei-ho