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Sully, you rogue, repeat to me some of the fine things you whispered in the greedy ear of Her Majesty!"

The Sully before me, who stood still in his shoes, without moving a hair's breadth, nor scarcely so much as winking, opened his mouth for a reply-but all he could repeat was the question:

"Will Massa have his coat brushed?" By this time, of course, I had become convinced that it was no use trying to teach 66 dis nigger" history, or to persuade him that he had ever been anybody else than the boy Sully, who was "raised" in Norfolk, and belonged to a citizen there who kept an oyster shop

"O, raking 'mongst the oyster beds,
To me it was a trade"-

and who, when shell-fish were out of season, hired out his servant to wait and brush at the White Sulphur.

After getting this short narrativeand it was about all that the boy knew respecting his history-it remained only to reply to his so many times repeated interrogatory:

"Yes, Sully! you may brush my

coat."

me.

Sully, accordingly, brushed my coat, a task he continued to do daily. He brushed my shoes also, and performed the service of my room. When he had no other work on hand, it was his duty, and his pleasure, to look after He brought me a match to light my cigar, if, by chance, I wanted one. He brought me my hat, my gloves, my stick. And, finally, he stood over me at table, with a peacock's tail in his hand, to keep the flies off, when, as brushing was his favorite summer vocation, he sometimes, with the tip of his feathers, also brushed my tea and coffee.

As the song has it—

"When I was young, I had to wait

On massa's table, and hand de plate;
I pass de bottle when he's dry,
And brush away de blue-tail Hy."

But, if Sully had few or no materials for the biographer, to the observer of men and things he presented a person of a size sufficient to awaken attention

and justify description. He was constructed on the principle of the curve. With nothing angular about him, he was as round as an apple, and everywhere came full circle. He was, by all odds, the fat boy of the establishment. Of course, he had no waist, and was un

der the natural necessity of wearing suspenders. His skin was so full, that, but for the perspiration which dropped from every pore the moment he put himself in motion, it was plain there would be a crack somewhere. He must have been in the habit of frequently opening his oyster and his mouth at the same point of time, otherwise, nature could never have attained to such fullness of form, and so universally brought all her lines round till they met. And then, what was gained in winter was not lost in summer; because, he coming up at the commencement of the warm season into the pure air of the mountains, the fat of the bivalve, which had once settled on his ribs, remained there the year round.

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In regarding Sully's mouth, one could not fail of being reminded of the wonderful adaptations of nature, and the fitness of things. It illustrated and proved true the famous doctrine of the Swedenborgian correspondences homely argument, indeed, but one much more convincing than all the far-fetched and mystical analogies relied on in the books. For, to one comparing the proportions of a well-developed Norfolk oyster with those of the boy's mouth, that the two were in exact correspondence, and meant by nature to go together, was as plain as moonshine.

Sully had not the least particle of vanity in his composition; at least, in studying him carefully for a fortnight, I could see no sign of any. He, accordingly, did not imitate white folks. Probably his master, the Norfolk oysterdealer, was a short, fat man, who, being tolerably well to do in the world, had long since ceased to open his own oysters, and did nothing but stolidly sit about, and overlook the slow activity of his servant. But whatever resemblance there was between the two must have been accidental, or the natural consequence of their mutual relations; for that the boy ever intentionally took any white man for a pattern is not credible, he being so entirely sui generis.

This utter lack of vanity showed itself not only in his manners, but also in his dress. His clothes were evidently all originally made to fit his own person, and were not the thrown-aside garments of a gentleman. They, consequently, were the furthest possible re moved from chique. There was no dash in the cravat, no fashion in the coat,

All

and not so much as a bright red or yellow thread in his whole wardrobe. was either plain white or black. Or, at least, if there were any warmer tints, they were so subdued, and ran so naturally into the two cold colors, that the prevailing tone of modest dullness was never marred. The boy's fancy seemed never to have risen higher than the simplest black and white check. This he always donned clean-in no sense could it be said that he sported it-on a Sunday.

Sully's dress corresponded with his disposition, which was not gay. I cannot conceive of his ever having danced the "break-down." If he had ever attempted it, it must have been when, on some great festal occasion, he so far departed from his usual sobriety as to take a little whisky. Nor could he touch the banjo. I don't believe he had ever been half a dozen times to a colored ball since he was a small boy; nor, except on rare occasions, was he ever seen looking in at the windows of the saloon in the hotel upon waltz or cotillion. If he could only go to bed early he wanted no other amusement, unless, indeed, it were to get up late. He, however, could doze tolerably well, even on his feet, and engaged in his ordinary avocations.

I never saw Sully make a gesture but once, and then it was entirely in keeping. It was not a pointed gesture. He did not lay his thumb against the end of his nose, with little finger projecting, nor, with extended index, count off his arguments on his digits. Much less was there any violence indicated in the motion; no doubling of the fist; no beating the breast; no rapping of the knuckles on a table. But Sully deliberately raised his hand, and deliberately brought it down again, in both instances describing a semi-circle. The move

ment was as round as himself.

And the occasion on which Sully made this gesture was, when I asked him a question respecting his wife.

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"Sully," I inquired one day, are you a married boy?"

"Yes, massa; 'tis now gone two years."

"Picked out a young girl for your wife, Sully?"

"No, I took an old gal-a free woman- -born de same year dat was me." "And how do you like it-the married life?"

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FIVE UNPROTECTED LADIES.

Five ladies, unattended by a gentleman, arrived at the Sweet Springs, in the same coach as myself. They were apparently all of the same age, and looked enough alike to be sisters. Two of them, certainly, had formerly accepted of husbands; the others probably not. Yet, being help-mates one of the other, they got on safely, and everywhere had their own way, spite of men and fate. Their very number gave them force, and great advantages over a single unprotected female.

On the road, they were, indeed, not a little anxious about their baggage, fearing lest it might be cut off from the coach by robbers, while the driver was thinking of something else; and whenever we stopped, one of them, at least, generally managed to get out, for the purpose of seeing that their trunks rode comfortably. All their band-boxes were on the top of the coach, excepting one of considerable size containing caps, and another smaller one filled with homoeopathic medicines, both of which were carefully carried in their laps. Whenever, therefore, the road was a little rough-and it was by no means always smooth-one eye was kept out of the window to see if, by chance, some of the boxes might not be tossed over the railing. The ladies, themselves, stood the jolting pretty well, their thoughts being mostly fixed on their valuables outside; and, indeed, the chief pleasure experienced on their travels seemed to be the satisfaction it gave them, at every stopping place, to learn from personal observation, confirmed by the testimony of the driver, that all their traveling effects were safe. That both they themselves, and all they had, should get unharmed to the end of their journey, was surely a cause for the very greatest satisfaction.

So it turned out. They were all delivered over to the landlord of the inn, which had been fixed upon, months before, as the spot where they would pass the summer, safe and sound, themselves, their trunks, and their boxes-even to

their umbrellas, parasols, and sticks. But I mistake—they had no sticks.

Once, however, on the journey, they had been pretty badly frightened. There was then running on the road a line of coaches in opposition to that of the mail; and, in consideration of a very considerable abatement in the price of passage, the ladies had ventured to take seats in one of the former. But the drivers sharing the spirit of rivalry between the proprietors, the Jehu of the "Lucy Dashwood"-in which the ladies had taken passage-had, from the start, made up his mind that he would take the snapper off the lash of the "old line" driver, before reaching the end of his journey. Accordingly, he managed to keep close behind his rival until they came to a place where there was room enough for a race. The main

But

road itself, just there, was narrow, and had some sharp turns in it, so that quick driving over it required a pretty steady rein, and horses well in hand. along its side ran a creek, the bed of which also furnished a track to a driver who, at the same time, was not a bad pilot. Therefore, on reaching this place, the hindmost whip determined that ho would either tip over, or get the lead. Seeing that his opponent kept to the road which was dry, he boldly dashed into the wet one.

"Good gracious!" exclaimed the ladies, all at once; and, but for being held fast, one or more of them would certainly have jumped out into the creek. Meanwhile, splash down through the torrent went coach and horses, making the water fly in at the windows as if it had been a violent rain-storm. The ladies dropped both cap-box and medicine-chest, in order to clasp their hands in consternation. But before they had time to wring them, the horses, with the lash around the ears of the leaders, sprang out of the creek at a bound. The small boulders in the road where it left the water leaped out of it as if they had been frogs; the good, stout vehicle shook in every timber, but came out unbroken; the harness held fast, and the horses, gaining once more the

smooth terra firma, rattled down the hill, with tails in the wind, and their dull rivals far behind.

Immediately on being set down at the inn, the five ladies took possession of the landlord, and carried him off with them, to look at his rooms; and, accord

ing to the account of the matter afterwards given to me, he did not get out of their hands without some rather hard usage. They did not like his accommodations. The rooms first offered them they scarcely deigned to look at; but, after going over the whole house, and holding a consultation upon every vacant chamber in it, they finally came back to those they had so disdainfully refused at first, but which, by that time, had been taken by another party. So they were obliged to go over the whole ground a second time. One of the sisters wanted to have a bed which no man had ever slept in! Another insisted on being settled in the new part of the building, lest there should be animalculæ in the walls of the old. In all the rooms they pulled up the bed-clothes, and peered anxiously, but knowingly, into the holes in the four posts. They demanded a rocking-chair, with a cushion to it, in each one of their chambers. And, finally, one thing was absolutely indispensable-the curtains at the windows were an insufficient protection; they must be reinforced by shutters, made by the carpenter.

"But, ladies," replied the good-natured landlord, "there is not a carpenter to be had in the mountains. If you think the curtains insufficient, you must pin up something.'

"Indeed, we have nothing to pin up!" rejoined they all. Finally, however, seeing there was no remedy, this suggestion met with their approbation; and, either with or without what they wanted, or thought they wanted, the five ladies were, at last, all settled in their chambers.

But it was not more than ten minutes after they had taken possession of their apartments, before one of the ladies rang the landlord up again. Her chimney smoked.

"That can't be, Madam," said the host, "for there is no fire in it."

"So much the worse, if it smokes when there is no fire! What, then, will it do, when, on a rainy day, there are a couple of back-logs on, and I sit down to warm my feet by the fire?"

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and their smoke comes down through this fire-place. I smell it."

The landlord was a man of too much experience to argue long against the testimony of one of the seven senses— particularly in the case of a lady arrived at such years of discretion. He, therefore, quietly gave up his argument; the lady her chamber; and so the peace between them was not broken.

Only one thing remained to give them any uneasiness-and that was their traveling-bag. For, on the journey, some inconsiderate person had remarked that he believed one of the outside passengers was just recovering from an attack of the small-pox, caught at Staunton, where there had recently been several cases of it.

"O, our traveling-bag!" exclaimed she who seemed to be rather the bellwether of the party. "The man has been sitting on our traveling-bag!"

He had, in fact, been sitting, at one time, with his back against the unlucky piece of baggage; and it very naturally followed that he had given it the smallpox.

What was to be done? The bag contained a part of their several wardrobes, which could no more be dispensed with than shutters to the windows. What in the world was to be done?

"Have you ever been vaccinated?" first asked each of the other.

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"Yes, I have been vaccinated," was the reply all round.

"Have you been revaccinated?"
"Yes, I have been revaccinated."
"Then let me see the scar."

The scars were, some of them, hard to find; but, when found, were all pronounced satisfactory. And after much debating of the point, it was finally decided that, if the bag should be well smoked, and then its contents washed, a globule from phial marked 44 being put in the tub, they would run very little, if any, risk of taking the contagion.

find his reward reserved for him in the future.

At the close of the bathing season, on returning to the inn at the "Sweet,” I inquired of the major-domo if any of the "five ladies" had had the smallpox before leaving, and was glad to learn that, up to that time, the disease had not made its appearance among them. They had passed the summer, on the whole, to their satisfaction, though, on being weighed the morning of their departure, it was found that, after all their endeavors to the contrary, they had not gained a single pound. But if they had not gained, so had they not lost anything. And their dresses would not need altering.

A good many suggestions, the manager informed me, he had received from them, in the course of the summer, as to how the accommodations of his house might be improved against another season. They had, indeed, planned an entirely new cast of the whole establishment, adding an additional wing to the house, removing the stables, changing the fences, turning the current of the creek, and doing a good deal of painting and whitewashing, both in doors and out. They had, also, closely calculated, with slate and pencil, the value of the property-houses, lands, baths, and live stock-besides making an estimate of the gross and net receipts of the establishment; and, by their own showing, had run the proprietor in debt for betterments to full three times the value of his estate.

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To all these suggested improvements, therefore, the inn-keeper had gravely shaken his head; and, in winding up his story, he further intimated to me that, in his opinion, persons, whose wants at a hotel were the most numerous and unreasonable, did not always live any better at home than those who were more easily pleased, and took things as they came. However," added he, "they were very worthy ladies; and, no doubt, had been accustomed to have their own way at home-everything pat-and just so. But our servants could not get along with them at all. Poor Polly's headshe's the maid-was turned before they had been in the house a week; and Sam, the small boy who waited on them at table, was fairly brought down, the day before their departure, with what is called here the break-bone fever."" [To be continued.]

It is more than probable that they escaped this peril also; for there was some reason for believing that the traveler, who made the remark about the outside passenger having this disease, was an evil-disposed person, who could not resist the malicious pleasure of quizzing these respectable, but unprotected ladies. If so, he deserved the severest condemnation, and will no doubt

THE SENSE OF SIGHT IN BIRDS.

AUDUBON has written an amusing

book, I had almost said of fables, called Ornithological Biography. By a number of cruel experiments, he has proved to his own entire satisfaction, and that of many others, that vultures are led to their food by the sense of sight alone; the sense of smell, which they were supposed to possess in an exquisite degree, affording them not the slightest assistance. His experiments prove quite too much for his purpose, for they equally deprive the poor bird in question of both sight and smell. It is certain that this bird possesses both senses in great perfection, and equally certain that neither nor both are the sole means it employs for obtaining its food. Though the senses in animals are means of obtaining them food, they are not the sole means, as we very well know.

It is a most curious question, and well worth more attention than it has ever yet received. For want of a better explanation, we usually say there is an instinct that enables animals to find their food. Many go from great distances directly to it. Pigeons find out newly-sown fields immediately, and will frequently go several miles to a field the very first morning after it is sown. Wild ducks that feed at night, are equally quick in finding their food; and in this case, I would be glad to know what sense they employ. The red-deer invariably knows when the shepherd's patch of grain is fit for his food, and will frequently come down in such numbers as to eat up the entire crop in a single night. In fact, all birds, whatever their food may be, have an instinctive power of discovering it immediately, and that from such distances as no acuteness of either sight or smell will account for. Without allowing this, you cannot explain facts too numerous, and too well authenticated, to be doubted. It is precisely the same faculty, whatever it may be, that enables the carrier-pigeon to find its way home, take it what distance, and any way covered up, you will. Toss it up in the air, and, after circling for a few moments, it adopts its line of flight, without hesitation and without mistake. Audubon himself furnishes an instance of the exercise of this faculty, in his description of the razorbill.

"The instinct or sagacity which enables the razorbills, after being scattered in all directions, in quest of food, during the long night, often at great distances from each other, to congregate towards morning, previously to their alighting on a spot to rest, has appeared to me truly wonderful: and I have been tempted to believe that their place of rendezvous had been agreed upon the evening before."

In disputing about the comparative value of the senses of sight and smell in birds, authors notice a much more curious fact-the great power birds possess of altering the focal length of their eyes. To see equally well an object at a distance of many miles, and a minute seed or insect an inch from the bill, may well amaze us. Observe the first person of your acquaintance you meet, who happens to wear spectacles. If he looks at an object near him, he looks through his glasses: if at a more distant one, over them. Go to a practical optician and desire him to construct an instrument that will enable you to do what birds are constantly doing in this, and he will, most likely, tell you the thing is impossible.

Man probably surpasses birds in extent of vision, as much as birds surpass man in sharpness. Ross, in his voyage to Baffin's Bay, proved that a man, under favorable circumstances, could see over the surface of the sea 150 miles. It is not probable that any animal can equal this for extent. In sharpness of sight, on the other hand, birds greatly excel us. The eagle, soaring at such a hight that he seems a mere speck, sees the grouse walking in the heather, which it so closely resembles in color as readily to escape the sportsman's eye. Schmidt threw to a considerable distance from a thrush a number of beetles, of a pale gray color, which the unassisted human eye failed to detect, yet the bird observed them immediately. Many birds readily perceive insects on branches where the sharpest sighted person can detect nothing."

The eyes of birds are remarkable for their great comparative size, the great convexity of the cornea, and for having the sclerotic coat formed anteriorly to a circle of bony plates. The optic nerves are very large, and unite so

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