The Pittsburgh Gazette began publishing on July 29, 1786. By Sept. 3 the paper had printed its first reader complaint about the lack of fresh information in the newspaper and had run its first lawyer joke.

The early editions of the weekly Gazette included a mix of short local and longer national stories, the latter often reprinted from other newspapers, and months-old foreign news. Advertising categories covered real estate, runaway servants and slaves. Publishers John Scull and Joseph Hall even found room for sports.

"I see by your last paper that you have not been crammed with news," wrote Gilbert Gichen, of Peter's Creek.

He also complained about a Latin phrase, left untranslated, that appeared in a previous issue of the paper. That "scrap of Latin about the lawyers, I confess it is as dark to me as all their proceedings in general are," Gichen wrote, setting up the premise for his dig at lawyers.

"One of our elders, who knows a little Latin, has given me an interpretation of it, but I think he may be wrong ..."

"[H]e says it means 'They labour to put themselves in a terrible rage to fill their pockets.' "

Gichen advised Scull and Hall to rethink their policy on foreign phrases. "If you write any more of this kind still be so good as to explain it," he suggested.

Gichen also asked whether the Gazette planned to publish "essays from one, two or three authors, or is your plan more general."

The weekly paper's four pages were open to a variety of opinions, the editors replied. "[T]hey will thankfully receive [from any person] essays which may tend to the entertainment or improvement of the readers of this paper."

Space, however, was tight and standards were high. "They are sorry to add, that many pieces have already been received for insert on which, if complied with, would have tended greatly to the injury of the Pittsburgh Gazette."

While the cover price of the Gazette was quite high -- 6 pence is equal to a minimum of $1.38 in modern currency -- its owners needed advertising to stay in the black.

"TO BE SOLD (For Ready Money Only)" is the first line of a Sept. 30 offer to sell the contract of an indentured laborer. In the 18th century, both men and women agreed to work for food and lodging, but without salary, for several years, most often in return for the cost of their passage to America.

"A German woman servant, she has near 3 years to serve, and is well qualified for all household work," the ad states. "[W]ould recommend her to her own country people [meaning German immigrants], particularly as her present master has found great inconvenience from his not being acquainted with their manners, customs and language. For further particulars, enquire at Mr. ORMSBY's in Pittsburgh."

Even when servants spoke the same tongue as their masters, problems were common. John Wilson, living in Fayette County, offered a $15 reward for the return of "an Irish servant named Charles Jordan, 25 years of age, five feet six or eight inches high, short black hair, round face, knock-kneed, large flat feet, has an old sore on the sole of one foot ..."

While Pennsylvania had passed a law in 1780 prohibiting future enslavement of blacks, it did not liberate anyone who was a slave at the time the measure took effect. Col. John Gibson, a former commander of Fort Pitt, was within his rights to advertise on June 2, 1787, "To be sold, to any person residing in the country, A Negro Wench."

The anonymous woman was "an excellent cook, and can do any kind of work in or out of doors." Since cash was often short on the frontier, Col Gibson was willing to accept a barter deal: "Produce will be taken, or cattle of any kind."

From south of the Mason-Dixon Line, Samuel Magruder and Daniel Dingle on Sept. 30, 1786, offered a $40 reward for the return to Maryland of a pair of slaves named Sam and Sue. "[T]he negro man is about 27 years of age ... a spare, thin fellow, he talks but bad English, the middle finger of the right hand is off at the tip end, occasioned by the frost." Sue was about 22 and "has a large scar upon the back of one of her legs, just above her ankle."

Lacking professional sports teams to root for, 19th-century Pittsburgh residents could seek diversion -- and wagering opportunities -- in horse racing.

The Jockey Club announced Sept. 9 that races would "start precisely at one of the Clock" on Oct. 19, 20 and 21. Daily purses would total as much as $120, equal to at least $2,800 today. Potential participants were warned that appropriate attire would be required. "No Jocky will be permitted to ride unless he has some genteel Jocky Habit."