tor, -with a flourishing up-town practice, but sirable partner in the marriage relation- 
who enjoyed a gala time out of office hours, Your lucky days are Tuesdays and Thurs- 
as much as if she had never saved a human days, on which days you may enter upon 
creature’s life nor handled a surgeon’s knife, any undertaking or attempt any enterprise 
We started off at, a brisk walk, and after with perfect success.’’ 
threading a number of narrow streets, we She then placed the pack of cards before 
found (by consulting a directory of the me with, “ Oat them, if you please." 
witches which we had clipped from the ad- “ I don’t know what you mean,” I said, 
vertiseraents in a newspaper,) that near by “Do this way," she answered, quickly, 
was the residence of I put out my hand to follow her example, 
madamk moivton, when she said, “Your left hand, if you 
" who revoats your whole lift* from the cradle to the please.” After the cards were cut, she spread 
arave; shows likeness of the future husband. Gouts , , , . 
not admitted. Koo, fifty o«nta to a dollar.-- them out, fttu-like, in her band, and request- 
We rang the bell at a rickety-looking ed me to draw out fifteen. I did. She spread 
bouse, and the door was opened by a frouzy- out the special fifteen in a row before her, 
headed, big-faced Irish miss of fourteen sum- and for a moment seemed to study them. 
it *\T e_t . - . n ___*1_ _ 
mers, perhaps. 
“ Is Madam, the Witch, in ?” I asked. 
“ You face luck ; you face prosperity; you 
face true love and disinterested affection; 
1 Madam Morton is in. Walk this way you lace a speedy marriage; you face a letter 
into the parlor.” 
We followed her through a narrow, dingy, 
which will come in two days, two weeks or 
two months, which will bring you pleasant 
uncarpeted ball into tbe “ parlor.” It was a news; you face a package of a present from 
small, square room, with one closely cur- a gentleman be will hand if to you; you 
tained window. By a bit of invention, we ‘ace an agreeable surprise; you face the death 
raised the curtain for special reasons. The of a friend ; you face the marriage of a friend 
carpet ou the floor was old and faded, with which will not surprise you; you face the 
holes at intervals. The set figures in it seven of clubs, which is the luckiest card in 
looked like so many turtles sprawled ahouL 'bo pack; you face a great and fearful fright; 
An old mahogany dressing bureau stood at you face two gentlemen with a l iew to mat- 
one side; a sewing machine in one corner; rirnony—one with brown eyes and hair, who 
four chairs, with legs tied on with twine, is much with you and loves you devotedly; 
stood lheumatieally about. On the walls the other, with darker hair and eyes, is ab- 
were framed photographs of ugly people, scut from you in body, but bis thoughts are 
tbe men in plaid pantaloons with tlmir upon you, and him you will marry. Your 
hands crossed, and the women with slick marriage runs within live or eight months; 
hair and white dresses. The place of honor five, I think;" with very much other talk of 
was filled by a framed suggestion of a ship— a similar drift. 
* . _ , . , m _i.rrv .. .a 1. . T r*,1 
a figure worked on perforated card-board, 
and afloat in mid ocean. 
The room bad one occupant when we 
entered, an ignorant, honest-faced, cleanly 
clad German woman, who said, in her 
She again shifted her cards; I cut and 
drew, after she had requested me to wish 
something. I wished, what?—that I might 
do what that keen, red-headed, bespectacled 
.Justin McCarthy is said to have done,— 
broken speech, that she had been waiting receive an order to write forty-five stories, at 
an hour to see the fortune teller. As we one hundred dollars per story, andthen write 
had no hour to spend in waiting, the doctor them in forty-five consecutive days, send 
immediately arose with the vigorous inten- them in with a hill, and receive, forthwith, a 
tiou of arousing the witch in her lair to a check for $4,500. In brief, 1 wished for an 
sense of our hurry. She had no more than opportunity to exchange forty-five small 
reached the door, when a voice, issuing packages of diluted nonsense, for forty-five 
from a side opening in that gloomy passage C's on a green back ground. I awaited her 
way, called out, “ The first lady may come answer with trembling anxiety, 
in l ” “ You will get your wish. You are soon 
The German woman answered the sum- to come into the possession of an inheritance 
mons, and we saw her no more. left you by surprise. You are soon to receive 
Wc occupied the time in looking through a letter containing money; it will not be 
tbe small cracked panes of the dirty window much, but it will be something. Your future 
upon the dilapidated brick court without, j s to be remarkably prosperous and happy, 
damp, moldy and forlorn. Then we decid- You will he twice married. Your first mar- 
ed upon the questions to ask and have ringe will be for money and position, but it 
answered. We also speculated upon the will he of short duration. Your husband 
views of our respective husbands, that we will be drowned. Your second marriage 
were soon to behold. The doctor was in will be with the man of your heart, and as 
the midst of a brilliant account of a similar happy a one as you could wish. You are 
experience she had had in the house of a soon to take a long journey by water—with- 
Boston astrologer, whose roof was painted in five mouths,! think. You will meet with 
“ I am to have two, you say. Am 1 about 
to behold the first, one I love for his money, 
and who is to pitch into the sea, or the last, 
one I love for himself, and adore?” 
“ The last one ? ” 
She held the tube firmly in her band, and 
I looked in, seeing only darkness. 
“ There’s nobody to be seen, Madam. He 
has run away I” 
“ Look again. His picture will grow ou 
you.” 
I continued to look, but saw nothing. 
“I still see nothing. If you will come 
nearer the window, tbe few sickly rays of 
light may help to resurrect him. If it is any¬ 
body 1 love, the sunshine will win him.” 
Madam approached the window, and after a 
moment’s gazing, I saw him! I see him 
yet! I fear I shall see him to ray dying 
day! I turned my eyes on Madam, in wrath. 
“ Madam, do you mean to say tlmt this is 
a picture of the man 1 am to marry?” 
“ This is his likeness,” she observed, severe¬ 
ly. “ He may he better looking than this, 
probably will be.” 
“ Hold him up to me again, aud let me tell 
you how lie looks! A broad, thick, stolid 
lace; German all over, and I hate Germans! 
A broad brow, straight black hair, little, 
piggish, black eyes, full of malicious vil¬ 
lainy, and whiskers — why I would never 
marry a man who wore his whiskers in this 
fashion if I had to drown a husband a week! 
a stubbed hedge row around under the chin 
from ear to ear. Why, ho looks as if he had 
feasted on human blood from bis youth up, 
and was glowering mad now that lie can’t 
i jump out of your tube and make a dinner on 
me! 1 marry him /” 
“That is your fate! You have seen and 
conversed with him.” 
“ I never have !” 
“Then you will see and converse with 
him, within two hours, two days, two weeks 
or two months.” 
“ If I do, I’ll say “no” to him so quick 
he will think ’twas the first and only word 
he ever heard. Can you tell me more 
Madam?” 
“ Not without additional fee. I have told 
you all I can for fifty cents. If you w ill 
give me your first name, however, I will do 
something for you alter you are gone, that 
will insure you success* Ladies tell me they 
hand’s breadth removed from the side of the I travagant and unnatural. Children rescued 
car just stopping for us. To retreat to the at the price of life; mothers that scarce de- 
curbstone was sure death. We had time for serve the name, shielded by the daughter's 
nothing. I can never think but it was one courage. In tlmt trembling, swaying house, 
of those mysterious miracles of Providence that is just about to fall, stands a woman 
wc can never solve. It might have been tbe quietly, calmly; she stands awaiting ihe 
motion of hands, and the action of the men 
on the rear of the car, that turned the course 
of the wild animah just enough to avoid 
dashing ns in pieces. Tbe car had fully 
stopped, and two men who had leaped from 
the rear platform, were by ns at once. 1 had 
neither power to move nor speak. I have a 
faint remembrance of being lifted to the plat- 
spring of the foe that is as yet held at bay; 
poor child of crime and infamy! Hope has 
gone out iu her heart, and why should she 
strive to save a life no other living human 
being would care to preserve. 
Far off in the aristocratic quarter of the 
town, a man is rising from his sumptuous 
couch. Hastily be throws on bis velvet 
form by a pair of strong arms, and of being dressing gown, and hies him to the window 
upheld by some oue, as I stood on the out¬ 
side in the air—for the cur was full}" crowd¬ 
ed—of gradually recovering myself, of hear¬ 
ing the conductor shout, “ Thompson street;" 
of turning to thank the owner of tbe strong 
arms, and seeing the counterpart of the man, 
or the man liitnself, whose liloenm the Witch 
had shown me l 
I do not know that the remainder of that 
days’ adventure and its sequel, would profit 
you enough to read it, or me enough to nar¬ 
rate it; and so, wavering in a state of inde¬ 
cision in regard to it, I wipe the ink from 
my pen. 
urn;d (Topics. 
CITY SCENES. 
Bitter, bitter cold ! The snow is falling 
fast and the wind is driving it iu clouds 
against the window panes; the air chill to 
tbe very heart; the streets are quite desert¬ 
ed ; the footsteps of the few passengers com¬ 
pelled, by necessity, to brave the storm, fall 
noiselessly upon the pavement; the roar of 
to see where the fire may be—to see whether 
any of bis real estate be in danger. Little 
recks he of her who owes to him her life of 
sliame and deat h of agony. 
Such, such are the contrasts of the Great 
City. c. s. N. 
-- 
DUMAS AND THE INVALID. 
The following story is told of Alexandre 
Dumas at a time when he was writing a 
serial novel for a Paris daily journal: 
One day the Marquis De P-called ou 
him. “ Dumas,” said lie, “ lmve you com¬ 
posed the end of the story now being pub¬ 
lished in the-?” 
“ Of course.” 
“Docs the heroine die at the end?” 
“Of course; dies of consumption. After 
such symptoms as I have described, how" 
could she live?” 
“You must make her live. You must 
change the catastrophe.” 
“ 1 cannot.” 
“Yes, you must; for on your heroine’s 
life depends my daughter’s.” 
“ Your daughter’s ?” 
“Yes; she hits nil Ihe various symptoms 
of consumption which you have described, 
and watches mournfully for every number 
of your novel, leading her own fate in that 
>utbs.” business is bushed-even the gay bust e o Qf ^ reatl| J lw own late tlmt 
I’ll say “ no” to him so quick pleasure has ceased ; the countless windows Qf ljfcroiue , s . NoWi ir you mako y0U r 
ink ’twa 3 the first and only word gleam with lights, and send bright bare of heroine ]lve my daughter, whose imngina- 
heard. Can you tell me more hglit across the snow; for once the mighty 1)as beeu t i eep ] y impressed, will live, 
city is still. Shrouded from all banian gaze, „ 
ithout additional fee. I have told wliat scenes are passing witlun those closed „ Come j a lif > e t0 saTe j s a temptation—” 
can for fifty cents. If you will doors! Here, upon the crest of the new «• Not to be resisted.” 
our first name, however, I will do fallen snow, a ruddy glow steals through Dumas changed his last chapter. His 
[ for you alter you are gone, that crimson curtains, and the sound of merry , )CroinC recoverc d t an d was happy, 
a vou success. Ladies tell me they i ^nusic is borne upon tlie night wind. Hard fivft vpftra afterward Dumas met. 
“ Come! a life to save is a temptation—” 
“ Not to be resisted.” 
Dumas changed bis last chapter. His 
heroine recovered, and was happy. 
About five years afterward Dumas met 
always Lave better luck after having been by, a feeble ray struggles ineffectually with t h e Marquis at a party. 
to simulate the heavens, and whose witcliy 
cauldrons and rising incense possessed their 
many distinguished people, and in a foreign 
land will learn facts connected with your 
own peculiar significance, when the second birth and parentage, that may at first distress 
summons came. I looked at my watch. It you, but which you will find afterward to be 
bad been eight minutes since tlie German left. 
I was tbe next to enter. A single sweep¬ 
ing glance took in the room and its fixtures 
—two stools with a rude stand between 
them; a small window with the bliuds 
to your advantage. Let me see your baud— 
your left one, please.” 
Drawing off my glove, she looked at the 
palm. 
“ You had a great deal of sorrow in the 
closed; dingy walls covered with smoke early part of your life. You are a single 
and dust, and festooned with spiderwebs; woman; am I not right ? You have had a 
the parts of a bedstead piled up in one great many enemies among women, who 
corner; a mattress flung in another; a were jealous and envious, and sought to barm 
worn, uncarpeted floor. Dreariness without you. Indeed, there are some left. One dark 
mystery 1 My heart drooped within me. A woman, who has been near you in the past, 
solemn black cat curled up on the mantel if not so at present, is a most treacherous 
would have beeu better than nothing. The person. She stands like a dark spirit to de- 
Sibyl herself neither looked as if she could stroy you, and blast your life. Her arrows 
invoke the aid of spirits, stare nor demons, tall harmless, however; you seem to be 
She was a medium-sized woman, with a above her, out of her reach. You are long- 
sallow fuce, smoothly combed black hair, a lived—a delicate person, I should say, but 
pair of intensely black and steady eyes, a with a great deal of will. You possess a 
shrewd, intelligent face, aud was clad in a cheerful, lively disposition, are fond of so- 
respectable calico gown. ciely, quick to feel a hurt and resent it, but 
“Madam,” I began with solemnity, “ I never harboring auger. Your last days are 
have come to consult you about the the fu- to be your best. days. If you will make a 
ture. Of the past, you need not consult wish now in regard to any gentleman you 
your oracles; that is mine already. It is of wish to attract to you, do so, placing your 
the mysterious future that I would learn.” left hand on this.” She pointed to a small, 
here. I don’t do this for every one, but I ™e tmraness usu ugnu* ui« ».r „ A * Dumas t" he exclaimed, “let me in¬ 
will for you.” » ‘* ,e & ' de ol llie 10111 troduce you to my daughter; she owes her 
“Do you have many visitors?” I asked, hunger and want. A little larlher on a jjg, to you. There she is.” 
while drawing on my gloves. watchman has stumbled upon something “ Tlmt fine, handsome woman, who looks 
“ From for ty to fi fty a day.” covered deep in the snow, and the sharp ca j-| {e j oaa cf Arc?” 
“How long uave you been telling for- of tbe rattle summons bis fellows to help ..yes. She is married, and has four chil- 
tunes ?” him t0 can T a ,lian t0 tl,e ^va'cfldiouBe. . } „ 
“I have advertised for twenty-five years.” Tlie 7 may spare themselves that trouble— „ An d my novel four editions,” said Du- 
“ Indeed! Are you an American ?” b e is quite dead; frozen, starved, within a mag , „ s0 we are quits." 
<i No I am French.” few feet of warmth and plenty—at the very ’ __ 
“ I never should think so from your doorsteps oi wealth und luxury. His poor 
speech.” wife may strain her eyes in vain through the x Afei xUlIBhr aLijiN. 
“I came to this country while very young.” blinding tempest; vainly she watches and A BogTON ] etter says:—“The Rev. 
I lifted the latch to pass out. “ Reraem- waits. She is a Widow now, and her child- Henry Morgan haa repeated his lecture ou 
her,” cried she after me, “ that your lucky fatherless. To-morrow, perhaps, the , Fagt Yo Men,’ twenty-five times in Bos- 
days are Tuesdays and Thursdays. Now P olica reports may tell her something to an( j is engaged by the dry goods mer- 
the next lady.” eild liei ' suspense and hope toget iei ; to- ch&)]|g of the cily l0 deliver it again for the 
“Is she good for anything?” whispered mglit she must still her anguish, and wait , )(Jnefit uf the clerks, who will be furnished 
the Doctor, as we met in that narrow hall, mid watch, aud perchance, hope, too, a f rce tickets. He presents two classes- 
“Good enough to try; I’m curious. Go little—all in vain, all in vain. 0 f lasl young men, those who reform and 
in aud get fifty cents’ worth,’ I smuggled In that tall bouse across the way, a single those who resist every effort made fur their 
into her eare. window is faintly lighted, as though by re f orma ticw». While paying tribute to their 
I found, upon consulting my watch, tlmt some watcher’s taper, and a doctor’s car- j r j eiu ] S( Mr. Morgan deplores the vice of 
she had given me more time than she gave riage is at the door, The shivering driver suc]( men as Coleridge, the poet, who was 
my German sister. 1 at once proceeded to throws an additional blanket over bis a slave to rum; Burns, no less a drunkard, 
note down her predictions, and had scarcely patient horse for, “ fellow feeling makes us w j l0Was j n a m audliu state when he corn- 
finished when the Doctor came in laughing, wondrous kind”—as he beats the snow poge j jjjg immortal lines over 'Highland 
and with her characteristic shrug of shoul- away from his own shoulders and draws his Mary’s’ grave; Douglas Jeurold, the 
| dere, suggested that we better depart. cap down over his eyes. In that upper g rea ^ wbo was a devotee of gin ; Lord 
When fairly into the street, we proceeded chamber lies tbe poor worshiper ot Mam- jj vkon lbe suln Q f -whose life was gin, 
to compare notes. By alternate rehearsals, mon, in that strong grasp from which every women and licentious poetry ; De Quin- 
we found a striking similarity of both past, human nerve shrinks bade affrighted. He CEY w hose imagination ran riot from the 
present and future fortunes. had thought his were not human, but that excessive use of opium ; Steele, the bril- 
“ She told rac one thing just past," contin- icy touch has proved them so; and hands ]j ant antbor of the ‘Christian Hero,’ who 
ued she, “Unit was true. She said that I that never opened to the prayer of penury was a beastly drunkard; Charles Lamb, 
had had a disagreement with a persou in the or laid a thank offering upon the altar of who was a votary of the cap; and lastly, 
the darkness us it lights the poor mother by 
the side of the dying child—dying from 
hunger and want. A little farther on a 
watchman has stumbled upon something 
covered deep in the snow, and the sharp call 
of the rattle summons his fellows *.» help 
him to carry a man to the watch-house. 
They may spare themselves that trouble— 
he is quite dead; frozen, starved, within a 
few feet of warmth and plenty—at the very 
doorsteps of wealth und luxury. His poor 
wife may strain her eyes iu vain through the 
blinding tempest; vainly she watches and 
waits. She is a widow now, and her child¬ 
ren fatherless. To-morrow, perhaps, the 
police reports may tell her something to 
end her suspense and hope together; to¬ 
night «he must still her anguish, and wait 
and watch, and perchance, hope, too, a 
little—all in vain, all in vain. 
In that tall house across the way, a single 
window is faintly lighted, as though by 
some watcher’s taper, and a doctor’s car¬ 
riage is at tbe door, The shivering driver 
throws an additional blanket over bis 
patient horse for, “ fellow feeling makes us 
wondrous kind”—as he beats the snow 
away from his own shoulders and draws his 
The oracles she consulted seemed to be a 
pack of well worn cards lying on the stand, 
black, cylindrical form, 
“I’ve no such wish to make. Madam,” I 
and a well thumbed book lay opposite on replied, frank as a fool, without thinking; 
the mantel. 
“ In what mouth were you born ?” she 
asked.” 
“ November." 
“ At what day, hour and moment?” 
“ then recovering my wits, I added, “ I have 
wished.” It may seem sacrilegious to know 
that in that miserable den, with a vile witch 
bendiug over me, I wished to attract to me, 
not a “gentleman," hut a saint, a spirit, a 
house, and came very near leaving, but had 
concluded to stay. Did she ask you to give 
her your first name, at the last, but say 
nothing about it, aud she would do some¬ 
thing for you ?” 
“ Yes. Did she call you a single woman ?” 
“ Yes, but I told her I wasn’t; that I had 
a husband and three children.” 
“ What did she say to that?” 
“ She said I must be mistaken!” 
God, are wrung in agony ; and lips that nev¬ 
er uttered prayer or benison send forth cries 
of importunate frenzy and wild despair— 
“ Gold, gold, gold. 
Yellow and hard and cold,” 
his only friend, is powerless now, and be 
turns from the god be has adored to deal 
with the God he Las forgotten. 
But, hark, a cry riugs through the silence, 
clear aud loud, “ Fire! fire! fire!” Away 
“ She was right in that. I fancy these old yonder, against the black aud lowering sky 
“ The sixth day, at 6:20 in the morning, as brave, pure soul, wlio had gone away so far 
near as I can ascertain.” from me :— 
“ How old are you T” •* Farther than eye can follow, 
“ I haven’t the slightest idea.” Farther than soul can reach." 
“Give me the name of your favorite But, alas! no earthly incantation could 
flower.” bridge the space between us. 
“ Daisies in summer and pansies in win- “ The spell is over ” she at length said, 
ter.” aud then rising, with the small, cylinder- 
“ The name of your favorite animal?” shaped thing in her hand, she bade me look 
“ An Alderney heifer.” in at one end of it and see tbe picture of my 
crones can tell every time whether a woman 
be married or not. What of your future 
husband ?" 
“ Oh, she evidently had omitted to take 
yours out and put mine in; for after she had 
asked me to look, she turned away, and 6tood 
for some time with her back toward me. He 
seemed to be a fair looking Irishman, with a 
and looming fearfully over those innumera¬ 
ble dwellings, is tbe lurid glare of the flames 
as they burst forth iu their pitiless might. 
It is the very poorest quarter of the city— 
the shanty, and the hovel, the tottering 
tenement, that long, long ago, was a decent 
home, fall, one after another, an easy prey 
to the slowly advancing conflagration. Few 
light moustache, and I am to many within will lend a helpiug hand to-night to the suf- 
three or six months. We have an hour yet, fering inmates. 
“ The name of the animal most repugnant “ future husband.” 
to you ?” 
“ A conceited man, with oil on bis hair.' 
Eventful moment 1 I conjured up my 
sweetest smile to gaze enraptured on the 
She then opened the book aud read in so face that in the future I was to behold and 
rapid a manner that the pauses, were there recognize as my lord and master—as the 
any, must have taken fright and fallen out, j man to whom I was to look for my temporal 
(looking at her watch,) “for another fortune 
teller. Where shall we go?” 
• Madam Jones is the next on the list. 
Suppose we invoke her aid. Here are the 
cars for Thompson street.” 
Scarcely had the words left my lips, and 
It is intensely cold, and the sleet drives 
furiously; the water freezes in the hose, and 
the faithful firemen strain every nerve in vain 
to stop the progress of destruction. The old, 
rotten, wooden buildings offer little resist¬ 
ance to tbe dost rover. The wretched in- 
the following; 
—when it flashed into my mind to ask which 
Edgar A. Poe, from whose melancholy 
death from mania-a-potu a wholesome moral 
is drawn. Mr. Morgan's description of 
Poe, as he appeared before tbe Boston Ly¬ 
ceum, twenty-five years ago, while border¬ 
ing on frenzy by recent potations, makes a 
forcible impression on the audience. Fast 
voting men were not beyond tbe pale of sal¬ 
vation. Bunyan, Robert Cltve, Benja¬ 
min Abbott, John Summerpield, Rich¬ 
ard Weaver, John B. Gough and others 
are mentioned as among those who have 
been reclaimed.” 
-- -»♦» - 
(Smut from Goetlie. 
Many thousand stars are burning 
Brightly in the vault of night; 
Many an earth-worn heart is yearning 
Upward, with a fODd delight. 
Stars of beauty, stars of glory. 
Radiant wanderers of the sky! 
Weary of the world's sad story, 
Ever would we gaze on high. 
—-♦♦♦ - — 
Politeness is, in business, what strata¬ 
gem is in war. It gives power to weakness; 
it supplies great deficiencies. It is invinci¬ 
ble either in tbe attack or defense. 
Pride is increased by ignorance; those 
“ You are of an amiable and frank dispo- husband it was ! 
sition, benevolent, and an amiable and de- Madam seemed stunned for a moment. 
Scarcely had the words left my lips, and ance to the destroyer. The wretcuect m* . 
we had advanced half across the street, when habitants pour out in shivering crowds, and Pride is incivasev. y gnorance , 
fairly darting upon us, came a pair of fright- scenes of heroism and devotion are enacting who assume the most are usually those 
ened horses, and, as it seemed then, but a there that in fiction would be counted ex- know least. 
