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DEATH OF THE BREWER KING.

old,) might be from one hundred to one hundred and eight feet. The place where the young was found; and the peculiar formation with bunches made by selfcontraction; and the spine adapted to this singular shape, excepting near the neck and tail, (where no bunches were discovered in the large monster,) where it was straight as in other serpents; all seem to render it probaple that this animal was the offspring of the great sea monster. Twenty-four distinct bunches were noticed between the head and the vent. The color was a deep brown; the belly a little lighter. "The interior structure of the animal taken, differed from that of other serpents. The different vertebræ varied, and were accommodated by their shape and size to the configuration of the back."

The sea serpent has been often seen near our coasts since 1815 and 1817, and the accounts given by those who saw it, go to confirm the former statements in all important parts.

DEATH OF THE BREWER KING.

THE clock of St. John's, at Ghent, struck five. The day had hardly began to break, and, notwithstanding, an immense multitude already filled the streets of the great Flemish city. The Reward, or sovereign, was momentarily expected. Was it a joyful triumph which was awaiting the chief demagogue? Was it the preparation of a triumphant entry, which had put in motion the whole population of Ghent ?-No. The groups formed here and there, met, crowded each other, and rolling from one side to another, in menacing columns, gave presage of any thing but a fete. The symptoms of an inevitable revolution are manifested in the countenances of the heroes of the insurrection. A hideous crowd are proceeding from the four corners of the city toward its great northern gate, like the froth from a boiling pot. Ferocious railings, mingled with obscene jokes and patriotic songs, sounded in the air like the roaring of the sea in a raging tempest. The inhabitants of Ghent determined upon the assassination, secure of their prey, and masters of their vengeance, proceeded with a kind of satanic tardiness to a general insurrection. The cannibals seemed occupied in placing themselves conveniently to enjoy at their ease, afterward, the pleasures of crime and death. The partizans of the Brewer-king mingled with the crowd, and heard, with an increasing perplexity, the bloody notes of the insurrection. The sky was pure and serene. The azure calm of the firmament, like a mockery of nature contrasted in a sinister manner with the disorderly movements and unmerciful looks of the insurgents. The assions were in full play. But already opinion, almost unanimous, pronounced the condemnation of Artevelle. It might be called a national decree, for, in the forum of the revolt, more than a hundred thousand voted. What a strange and clashing dialogue is that of the multitude! There is a lesson in it; attend :"He comes late-the traitor!"

"He has sold us to the English!"

"They are counting out his money, perhaps❞ "And his pockets are so large, it takes hours to fill them!"

"We shall not be so long in emptying them!" "He is bringing casks full of ropes, which have been sent to him from London. They are loading them, and that takes time!"

"What is the use of these ropes ?"

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"Dirty fellow!"

"They say he will come on horseback!"

"On the horse-or dragged under his feet?"
"The streets need sweeping!"

"Will he have a crown on his head!"
"Yes, in the shape of a night-cap!"
"And we'll cry out, Good night comrade!"

A crowd of students crossed at this moment the great street of the city, directing their course toward the Steen-dam. The chief of the troop waved a kind of flag, with variegated colors, upon which was written these words, LIBERTY! "Neither thrones nor kings!" The lowest of the female population followed them, clapping their hands. Oaths, jests, laughter and menaces, mingled tumultuously in the affray."

The greater part of the students were half drunk, and were returning from their nocturnal orgies. Some, tattered beggars, bawled out church hymns, others, bullies sang warlike airs. They were all armed with pistols and daggers, and their frightful procession, like the folds of a serpent winding from one quarter to another, and showing in twenty places at a time, resembled the innumerable heads of a hydra. These young fellows, vomited from the schools and burning with revolutionary fever, had only bloody smiles and words of destruction. Like owls, they flew to the ruins; like vultures, they scented the dead body. Their conversation was the same a that of the people.

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THE DEATH OF THE BREWER KING.

"Long live the Counts of Flanders!"

his

The noble features of Artevelle were cast down; eyes were dilated with horror; his eyebrows from violent suffering, were horribly drawn up. Instruments of

-a desperate resolution. He flatters himself that his presence, saluted a short time since with so much enthusiasm by the great Flemish city, will still impose upon the populace. He affects confidence; and raising his head, with a feigned firmness, continues his jour-torture were preparing upon the square, to tear his ney toward Ghent.

"I have a star!" said James.

The star had just been extinguishedArtevelle has passed the northern gate; he is under the walls of the capital. The furious bands of the faubourgs, composed of mad vagabonds, disgusting prostitutes and ragged children, advanced to meet him, brandishing their pikes, and themselves stunned by their own imprecations. A cry of ferocious joy burst from their ranks on seeing him—a cry like that which demons utter when a soul, abandoned by heaven, is cast into their burning lakes. It was for the Reward the first toiling of his death-knell-the first note of agony. The heart of the Brewer-king failed him. Will he still advance ?-He stops face to face with the popular curses. There was no longer a single drop of blood in his veins that did not chill. But there was no longer time to recede from a decision once taken He must march straight forward to misfortune. Boldness was now a necessity.

"Courage, brave lancers! tighten your belts! raise your arms!"

step.

The English soldiers answered by acclamations the order of the chief demagogue. They were in number only a hundred, but by their undaunted courage they were equal to an army. They defiled in a measured Some burghers, friends of Artevelle, made to him from their windows signs of alarm, in order to hinder him from going farther. Other individuals, from the balconies, pointed at him with disgust. The clamor continued to increase. The Reward, his eye fixed upon the distant hordes bristling with poignards, through which he must force a passage, saw clearly the night of horrors which extended around him. Shouts met his ear; the cry of furies was mingled with them. The spectators, greedy for murder, who crowded with transport after these bloody men, seemed to possess sepulchral figures; or rather might have been called dead bodies, gathered from their graves, for the orgies of the sins of hell.

"James!" said a voice from a neighboring window, in a tone of irony, "how sublime and glorious is this liberated population! Behold the heroes of thy glory -the supports of thy throne!-Admiration and respect! Uncover thyself, then and salute them!"

A smile of sad courtesy answered the vengeful irony. Opposite Artevelle is a bridge; on the other side of the bridge is a public square, in the midst of which is a gigantic gallows; and in the square is collected the raging crowd, when, uttering savage yells, is preparing to rend its victim.

"Give way for the Reward"" cried the archers. The intrepidity of these brave men confounded the multitude. Nevertheless, thousands of raised arms pointed out the horrible gallows. The vociferations redoubled.

"Death to the English!"
"Down with the Reward!"

"None of the liberties of the tyrant!"
"He has sold and delivered us!"
"Let him give us the gold he has taken!"
"No Black Prince!"
"No more traitors!"

limbs to pieces before suspending them on the gibbet, He saw ten kinds of death to suffer before enduring the last agony. He heard the bursts of furious joy and ferocious mockery, which broke forth from the volcano of popular feeling in its eruption. His head turned. The multitude, without pity, like the ferocious beast which takes care not to kill its prey on a sudden, in order to toy with the palpitations of its agony; the multitude happy and gaping, then struggled together to have the Brewer-king spared for the moment. They needed a series of bloody emotions; a succession of varied tortures; a long spectacle of death. There, for all this assembled people, death must not be purely and simply the last sigh of a condemned wretch; it must be for an entire day, the sport of the city; "Give way for the Reward!—Give way for the Reward!" They repeated the cry of the archers. These last, armed to the teeth, and their heads raised, formed around d'Artevelle a rampart of steel and iron. Some stones and arrows had been directed against them, on their descent from the bridge; but the chiefs of the revolt had opposed their attacks; and the valorous Englishmen, determined to fight even to death, continued to break through the tumultuous mass, which gave way before their lances like ears of wheat before the rushing of the tempest. The brilliant hotel of the Reward is at the other extremity of the square. Artevelle has at length succeeded in overcoming all obstacles. But he re-entered the walls of his hotel, with only a third of his cohort; sixty brave men have perished. He has received no wound. The great door of his dwelling is promptly closed after him; but his safety is not assured; his house, entirely surrounded, has neither secret issue nor defence. The bottom of his court is fronting a canal, and the two sides of this same court are shut in by high walls, behind which a besieging crowd constantly increases. No way is open to flight. The Brewer-king, crossing the vestibule of his hotel, mounts rapidly the great stair-case which conducts to the state rooms, and, from one of the high windows, which overlook a part of the city, he casts his eyes without. Hideous picture! ferocious spectacle! A kind of order has succeeded to the disasterous uproar; public ferocity, a moment turned from its course, by the skirmish of the students and archers, was again directed upon the Reward with a new intensity. Thousands of assassins call him. A revolutionary sun-a sun of July (17th July, 1345) rose in a cloudless sky. James, motionless and fixed to the spot, gazed attentively upon the ovation of death, which the executioners were preparing for him. The lofty gallows raised in front of his habitation, had three branches, at the ends of which hung ropes with running knots attached to iron rings; a wooden horse and a wheel, destined to feast the spectators with the convulsions of the victim, were close to the gibbet. Not far off, was a wood-pile, upon which were placed cauldrons, which some smiths were blowing by the aid of an enormous bellows; they were also heating pincers. The cannibals collected at this place, were singing patriotic hymns, and taking hold of each other's hands, they danced around the fire. They had lighted torches of pitch, which they waved in the air; a black vapor arose ;

THE DEATH OF THE BREWER KING.

and they continued, enveloped in the smoke, their dance of demons. Several English arches ran toward their chief.

"Reward, they are breaking in the doors."

The eyes of Artevelle were half extinguished in their orbits; the whirling of his brain hindered his apprehending the most distinct words. He had his hand upon his garments; and, with the rage of a brute, he tore his breast with his nails.

"What will become of us?-All is lost!" cried the servants of the hotel. "Do you hear the blows of the axe?" The sudden falling of one of the walls of the court, caused the whole hotel to tremble. The acclamations of the mob saluted the triumphant crash. The murderers are at the breach.

"Reward, we will defend the staircase," cried the undaunted archers; and you, whilst we fight, must en-gust has conquered hatred.

deavor to speak to the people."

"And where ?" said Artevelle.

"I have wished the happiness of all. Alas!-you are about-in my blood-to drown the liberty of Flanders." A thousand voices interrupted him.

"He no longer says, My dear fellow citizens?"
"And he still dares to speak of liberty, the tyrant!"
"Enough of thy juggleries, spoiler !"
"Revolter! die by the revolt."

A new tumult, an extraordinary movement, again occurred to vary the scene. Philip Artevelle, seconded

"From the balcony." The brewer-king is dragged by Hamstede, and followed by a numerous troop of thither. At a few paces from him, he hears the fero-workmen, undertakes to save his father. He hastens cious howlings of the assailants. His faithfu guards, on. He is young and brave. His filial love and his ranged at the top of the staircase, are all about to per- bold despair impose upon the populace. He speaks ish, even to the last. He appeared on the balcony. with a loud voice, and is heard. He braves death, and Ironic applauses burst forth at sight of him. James is admired. A passage is opened for him-Philip cross made a sign that he wished to speak; his knees totteres the square. The Reward perceives his son. A new ed; his hands convulsively clenched the railing of the ray of hope: this time it was the last. balcony, in his endeavor to sustain himself. He saluted to the right and left by a mechanical instinct; his burning throat hardly left passage for a few inarticulate words, which were drowned by frantic howlings.

The fury of Wenemare, an instant suspended, is again aroused at the sight of the foul. educer of Neoile, with a violence impossible to describe. He seizes with his iron gauntlett his citizen-majesty, still at his feet, he raises him with his athletic hand above the fatal balcony, and, throwing him afar off with prodigious force, he cries:

"Philip! thy father!-Citizens, behold your king!". A general cry of stupefaction, welcomed this hardihood-soon a burst of enthusiasm succeeds. The dark collossus, who had thus cast a kind of monarch as the game of a pack of human hounds, as a straw is cast to the wind, struck with admiration the children of independence. A vigor so prodigious, joined to so rare a daring, appeared to them supernatural. They contemplated Wenemare with a superstitious awe.

"Thou betrayedst-thou art betrayed." "Thou hast sold us-thou art thyself sold." The popular fury seemed, nevertheless, to have lost its intensity. A gleam of hope shone vaguely in the eyes of James. He is preparing to speak again, when, on a sudden, a hand, cold and heavy, strikes his shoul-black and gigantic warrior seems to them to be a mesder like the talon of a vulture. At this unforeseen oc- senger from the Most High, an avenging genius, alcurrence, he turns his head and gazes. A dark and most a god. colossal figure was standing by his side-the figure raised his visor.

This

"Behold me !" It was Wenemare.

These terrible words, which at the critical hour, the exterminator had promised to speak to the victim, completely annihilated the "Reward." There is on the balcony an awful exchange of looks of vengeance and cowardice. Urbin with his head inclined towards the condemned wretch, overpowered him with the vengeance which beamed from his eyes. James, no lon-gibbet waits for thee." ger able to sustain the lightning of those terrible eyes, seeks to hide the figure from his sight; but, with his iron fingers, Wenemare pushes away his hands, and his voice, heard afar off, seemed like thunder; he repeated these words:

"Behold me!"

With his face on the ground, Artevelle falls exhausted. "Dost thou recollect my two oaths;" said the soldier of Oudembourg; "I have kept one, I shall fulfil the other. The second blood washes out the first."

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by a dagger, rolled at thy feet expiring-vile tyrant!didst thou have pity on him?"

"Kill him!" clamored the multitude.

The executioner of the vengeance of the people con tinues with vehemence.

James breathes forth a last murmur. "Pity! pity!"
The implacable Urbin rises. "When Louis, struck

"When thou oppressedst the kingdom-when thou didst despoil the orphan-when thou didst imprison the widow-when thou didst gain riches by murder, and when thou didst govern by crime: usurper! didst thou have pity?"

"Oh! death!" cried Artevelle. "I am tortured enough-Kill me !—Ah—!"

This last exclamation seemed like the final parting of life. Urbin turned away his head, with the sensation of disgust which a vile reptile, that one is about to crush, inspires. He raises his sword-lets it fall: dis

The multitude has changed its purpose and its ideas. Its fury is turned towards the son of the Reward. "Death to James! Death to Philip!"-Philip has fled from the field of battle.

The brewer-king had fallen like an inert and dead mass, at a considerable distance from the balcony. The spectators, anxious to hear his last sigh, crowded round the body. Gerard Denys was there-"James," cried he, "arise;" and he shook the victim. "Walk; the

James had his thigh broken. "Have pity on me and kill me !-my limbs are broken-I die." And he stretched out an arm.

4

"He wants to grasp my sabre !" said a bantering fellow; and the arm of Artevelle is cut off. "He cannot walk; let us drag him!" "Like a great man!" "Like a triumphant conqueror!" "Like a civic chief!" "Like a citizen king!"

The unhappy, mutilated wretch still struggles with convulsive frenzy amongst the ruthless multitude, who

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diate attendence. Now in the whole range of my practice there was no one whose call was sooner heeded than Mrs. Sykes': for besides being an ailing woman and of course a profitable patient, she had much influence in our village as the wife of Deacon Sykes. But I must confess that on this occasion I did feel an unwillingness to resume my habiliments, that night, as I before remarked, being uncommon stormy, and myself feeling sensibly the effects of the sudorifice I had

press about him, to tear him in pieces. His last groans are stifled by shouts of mockery. His torn limbs and his still palpitating flesh, were swept about in the mire. His hair, drenched in blood, was trampled under feet His heart still beat, but reason and understanding were gone. Suddenly, by a strange and barbarous compassion, Gerard Denys, at the foot of the gallows, plunged a pike into the entrails of the body, in order to extinguish any remaining life. The eyes of the brewer-king opened; a shuddering is on his lips-a vague souud-just taken. Still I should willingly have exposed myand all is over. His skull was broken.

MRS. SYKES.

L.

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE REMARKABLE PRACTICE
OF DOCTOR TONIC, AS EXEMPLIFIED IN HIS WONDER-
FUL TREATMENT OF THE CASE OF MRS. SYKES.

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THE author of the following very racy article, Nathaniel Deering, Esq., of Portland, Maine, has perpetrated more good things in the way of light literature, than many authors of the day, who have ten times more fame than has been awarded to him. Whether he is too careless or too modest to look after his laurels, we know not; but if some folks had his pen, they would make their names as familiar as household words on both sides of the Atlantic. He has written some of the best stories of humor that have appeared in this country, besides some fine gems of poetry.

We published some weeks ago two articles of his, on the renowned Timothy Tuttle. Those of our readers who shook their sides over the history of the musical Timothy, will not wait for an invitation to look at the following picture of pathos and fun.

self had not Mrs. Tonic gathered from the messenger that it was only a return of Mrs. Sykes' old complaint, that excrutiating pain, the cholic. As the medicine I had hitherto prescribed for her in such ailments had been wonderfully blessed, I directed Mrs. Tonic to bring my saddle-bags, from which having prepared a somewhat smart dose of tinct. rhei, with carb. soda, I gave it to the messenger, bidding him return with all speed. In the belief that this would prove efficacious, I again turned to woo the not reluctant Somnus, but scarcely had an hour elapsed when I was again alarmed by repeated blows, first at the door then at the window. In a moment I sat bolt upright, in which attitude I was soon imitated by Mrs. Tonic, on hearing the crash of one of her eight by tens. Through the aperture I now distinctly recognized the voice of Sam Saunders, who had hired with the Deacon, stating that good Mrs. Sykes was absolutely in extremis, or as Sam himself expressed it, "at her last gasp." On hearing this, you may be assured I was not long in naturalibus; but drawing on my nether integuments, I departed despite the remonstrances of Mrs. Tonic, without my wrapper, and without any thing, in fact, except a renewed draught of my philo humidum radicale. My journey to the One dark, stormy night, in the summer of, find- Deacon's was made with such an accelerated moveing my system had lost much of its humidum radicale, ment, that it was accomplished, as it were per saltum. or radical moisture, in truth a very alarming premoni- This was owing to my great anxiety about Mrs. Sykes, tory, I directed Mrs. Tonic, in preparing my warm aqua though possibly in a small degree I might have dreaded fontana, to infuse a quantum sufficit of Hollands; of an obstruction of the pores in my own person. Howwhich having taken a somewhat copious draught, I beit, on arriving at the Deacon's, I saw at once that sought my cubiculum. Let no one imagine, however she was beyond the healing art. There lay all that rethat I give the least countenance to the free use of al mained of Mrs. Sykes-the disjeeta membra-the fragchoholic mixtures. They are undoubtedly poisonous, menta-the casket! But the gem, the mens divinior, and like all other poisons which hold a high rank in our was gone and forever. There she lay, regardless of pharmacopeia, it is only when taken under the direc- the elongated visage of Deacon Sykes on the one side, tion of those deemed cunning in our art, that they ex- and of the no less elongated visage of the widow Dobert a healing power, and as one Shakspeare happily ble on the other side, who had been visiting there, expresses it, "ascend me to the brain." Now as the and who now hung over her departed friend in an agoradical moisture is essential to vitality, and as this ny of wo. "Doctor," cried the Deacon, "is there no moisture is promoted in a wonderful degree by potations hope?" "Is there no hope ?" echoed the widow Dobof Hollands, we of the faculty hold, with Horatius ble. I grasped the wrist of Mrs. Sykes, but pulsation Flaccus," omnes eodem cogimur "—we may all cogue had ceased; the eye was glazed and the countenance it. But to return to my narratio, or story, as it may be livid. "A caput mortuum, Deacon! defuncta! The called. I had hardly "steeped my senses in forgetful-wick of vitality is snuffed out." The bereaved husband ness," as some one quaintly says, when I was effectu- groaned deeply; the widow Dobble groaned an octave ally aroused by a loud knocking at the window. The higher. blows were so heavy and frequent that Mrs. Tonic, On my way home my mind was much exercised with though somewhat unadorned, it being her hour for re- this sudden and mysterious dispensation. Had Sam tiring, yet fearful of fractured glass, hurried to the door. Saunders blundered in his statement of her complaint? I might here mention, in order to show the reason o! Had I myself-good Heavens! it couldn't be possible! Mrs. Tonic's fears, that my parlor front window had I opened my bags-horresco referens! it was but too. been lately beautified with an enlarged sash, contain-palpable! Owing either to the agitation of the moment ing, not seven by nine, the size generally used, but when so suddenly awakened, or the deep solicitude of eight by ten-panes certainly of a rare and costly size, Mrs. Tonic, who, in preparing my philo humidum radiand which Mrs. Tonic had the honor of introducing.ale, had infused an undue portion of the Hollands-to The cause of this unseasonable disturbance proved to one of these the lamented Mrs. Sykes might charge her be a messenger from Deacon Sykes, stating that good intimely exit; for there was the vial of tinct. rhei. full Mrs. Sykes was alarmingly ill, and desiring my imme- to the stopple, while the vial marked "laudnum" was

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as dry as a throat in fever. I hesitate not to record that at this discovery I lost some of that self possession which had ever been characteristic of the Tonics. I was not only standing on the brow of a precipice, but my centre of gravity seemed a little beyond it. There were rivals in the vicinity jealous of my rising reputation. The sudden death might canse a post mortem examination, and the result would be as fatal to me as was the laudanum to Mrs. Sykes. A thought, occurring doubtless through a special Providence, suddenly relieved my mind. At break of day I retraced my footsteps to the chamber of the deceased. Accompanied by the Deacon, I approached to gaze upon the corpse; when, suddenly starting back, I placed one hand upon my olfactories, and grasping with the other the alarmed mourner, I hurried towards the door. "In the name of Heaven," cried the Deacon, "what is the matter?', "The matter!" I replied, "the matter! Deacon, listen ̧ In all cases of mortality where the radical moisture has not been lessened by long disease, putrefaction commences on the cessation of the organic functions, and a miasma fatal to the living is in a moment generated. This is the case even in cold weather, and it being now July, I cannot answer for your own life if the burial be deferred; the last sad offices must be at once attended to." Deacon Sykes consented. Not, he remarked, on his own account, for, as to himself, life had lost its charms, but there were others near on whom many were dependant, and he could not think of gratifying his own feelings at their expense-sufficient, said he, for the day is the evil thereof. I hardly need add that, when my advice to the Deacon got wind, the neighbors with one accord rallied to assist in preparing Mrs. Sykes for her last home; and their labors were not a little quickened by the fumes of tar and vinegar which I directed to be burned on this melancholy occasion. Much as I cherished Mrs. Sykes, still I confess that my feelings were much akin to those called pleasurable, when I heard the rattle of those terrene particles which cov-liberation, that he and myself should occupy a post at

Mrs. Sykes. Bring her remains at night to this chamber, and I with my venerable friend Dr. Grizzle, will exhibit what, though often described, are seldom visible, those wonderful absorbents, the lacteals. It is only in very recent subjects, my dear Job, that it is possible to point them out." My pupil grinned complacently at this manifestation of kindly feelings towards him in one so much his superior, and hastened to prepare himself for the expedition. It was about nine of the clock when the venerable Dr. Grizzle, whom I had notified of my intended operations through Job, came stealthily in. Dr. Grizzle, though from his appearance one would conclude that he was about to" shuffle off this mortal coil," was a rara avis, as to his knowledge of corporeal functions. There were certain gainsayers, indeed, who asserted that his intellectual candle was just glimmering in its socket; but it will show to a demonstration how little such statements are to be regarded, when I assert that the like slanders had been thrown out touching my own person. The profound Grizzle, above such malignant feelings, always coincided with my own opinion, both as to the nature of the disease we were called to counteract, and as to the mode of treatment; and so highly did I value him, that he was the only one whom I called to a consultation when that course was deemed expedient.

We had prepared our instruments, and were refreshing our minds with the pages of Chesselden, a luminous writer, when to my great satisfaction the signal of my pupil was heard below. Hitherto our labors seemed to have been blessed; but a difficulty occurred in this stage of our progress which threatened not only to render these labors useless, but to retard, if I may so say, the advance of anatomical science. It was this; the stairway was uncommonly narrow, and the lamented Mrs. Sykes was uncommonly large. As it was impossible, then, for Job to pass up at the same time with the defunct, it was settled after mature de

ered at the same time my lamented friend and my professional lapsus.

each extreme, while Grizzle assisted near the lumbar region. "Now," cried Job, "heave together;" but But after all, as I sat meditating on the ups and downs the words were hardly uttered, when a shriek from of life, during the evening of the funeral, the question Grizzle paralized our exertions. Our muscular efforts arose in my mind, is all safe? May not some unfledg- had wedged my venerable friend so completely between ed Galens remove the body for the purpose of dissec- Mrs. Sykes and the wall, that his lungs wheezed like tion? Worse than all, may not some malignant rivale pair of decayed bellows; and had it not been for the have already meditated a similar expedition? The Herculean strength of Job, who rushed as it were, in more I reflected on this matter and its probable conse-medias res, the number of the dead would have equalled quences, the more my fears increased, till at last they that of the living. At length, after repeated trials, we became too great for my frail tenement. There was at effected, as I facetiously remarked, our "passage of this period a boarder in my family, one Job Sparrow, the Alps;" an historical allusion that tended much to the who having spent about thirty years of his pilgrimage divertisement of Grizzle, and obliterated in no small in the "singing of anthems," concluded at length to measure the memory of his recent peril. And now, devote the residue thereof to the study of the human having directed Job to go down and secure the door, frame, to which he was the more inclined, probably, as Grizzle and myself advanced to remove the bandages he could have the benefit of my deep investigations. that confined her arms, previous to dissection. But His outward man though somewhat ungainly, was ex- scarcely was the work accomplished, when à sepulceedingly muscular, and he had a firmness of nerve chral groan burst from the defunct, the eyes glared and which would make him willingly engage in any enter- the loosened arm was slowly lifted from the body. prize that would aid him in his calling. Conducting That I am not of that class who can be charged with him to my sanctum or study, a retired chamber in my any thing like timidity, is, I think well proved by my domicile, “Job,” I remarked, "I have long noticed your consenting to act for several years as regimental surengagedness in the healing art, and I have lamented geon in our militia, a post undoubtedly of danger. But my inability of late to further your progress in the study I must concede that at this unexpected movement, of anatomy, from the difficulty of procuring subjects. both Grizzle and myself were somewhat agitated. An opportunity, however, is at length afforded, and I From the table to the stairway, we leaped as it were shall not fail to embrace it, though at the sacrifice of by instinct, and with a velocity at which even now I my best feelings. The subject I mean is the lamented greatly marvel. This sudden evidence of vitality in

MRS. SYKES.

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