Too Long; Didn't Read

One of those odd geniuses, who spend their lives and means in collecting curious and rare articles, lately died. His name was Sylvester Bonaffon, a retired merchant of Philadelphia. His elaborate collections were sold at auction, and their oddity has attracted general attention. His chief mania was for clocks, which literally covered every portion of available space in his apartments, whether they were placed on chairs, tables, shelves, or hung against the wall. Some of these timepieces were of unique construction. One clock was made to run for 400 days after one winding; another was set in the dashboard of his carriage, and he used Mr. Bonaffon also had an especial fondness for electrical apparatus. His windows were provided with ingenious burglar alarms, his rooms with fire alarms, and he ignited his gas always by electricity. His place of business, his stable, the Continental Hotel where he dined, were all connected with instruments in his room; and he even had perfected arrangements so that he could set at home and send his own messages to California. Besides the clocks and electric apparatus, there was an immense collection of bric-a-brac of every conceivable variety, which was sold at the auction—as is usually the case—at prices much below those paid by its late owner.