wonderful curiosity, and the owner turned his deception to good account.
Sometime about the first quarter of this century, a man in Ireland received twelve months’ imprisonment for secreting a Queen Anne’s farthing. He was shopman to a confectioner in Dublin, and having taken the farthing over the counter, he substituted a common one for it. Unfortunately for him, he told his master how he had obtained it, and offered it to him for sale. The master demanded the treasure as his property, the shopman refused to give it up, was brought into the Recorder’s Court, and there received the above sentence. When rogues fall out, honest men know what they have lost. It is wrong to assume that because thieves quarrel, their natural enemies “get their own.” At all events, experience has never taught us so, and the proverb, as generally read, is wrong.
Numerous are the instances of people having travelled from distant counties to London, in order to dispose in the best market of the supposed valuable farthing. The custodian of the medals in the British Museum used to be besieged by applicants from all parts of the country, offering Queen Anne’s farthings and imitations of them for sale, and of course the dealers in coin even now receive a liberal share of the same annoyance. Whence the treacherous fable originally sprung has never been satisfactorily explained. It is certain that Anne’s farthings never were very common, though of one variety, coined in 1714, not less than from 300 to 500 must have been put in circulation. But the others were mere patterns, and were never struck for currency: all of them were coins of great beauty, and for this reason, as well as on account of their being the only copper coins struck in the reign of Queen Anne, it is probable that they were soon hoarded and