uch space as is required for that pur

ose.

The voices did not cease with what has een here given; they kept on talking, and ve Ide ample opportunity to make his vestigation. Fnding that the sounds ere more distinct the nearer he came to he head of the bed, it occurred to him hether the tall bed-post might not be ollow, and thus transmit echoes as if it were the tube of a huge bassoon, from ome other part of the house-the cellar, erhaps. As he bent down to examine, owever, he caught the sound more disinctly than ever in his right ear, which hus came within a foot of the wall. Turning that way, and closing the shutter which he had thrown back, he discovered ust underneath the high wainscot that ran around the room, and at about a level with the head of the bed, a round aperture three or four inches in diameter, which on examination proved to be the funnelshaped extremity of a tube set in the

wall.

The mystery was now fully explained. Old Mr. Dalton, of whom and whose eccentricities he had often heard from his friend Blanding, had no doubt contrived this mode of communicating with his servant in some distant part of the house.

This application of acoustic tubes is by no means a new one; most large board ing houses in the city are now furnished with similar contrivances to save the time of attendants; and any reader who has heard in eating-houses the command,

Hurryupthemcakes!

to the regions of below, and the response,

Komingrightup!

can form an accurate idea of the singular change in quality of tone produced on the human voice by the use of such an appa

ratus.

It was but natural therefore, that Ide's first thought was how his discovery might be turned to advantage. To this end it was necessary to find the other extremity of the tube, for from the boisterousness of the players he could not suppose the apartment they were in to be in the main building.

With his ear close to the tube he could distinguish the voices quite distinctly, and at once recognized one of them as belonging to Wilber Wells, the Colonel's coachman-a harmless fellow, who might easily be frightened out of his senses. It appeared he and some others, probably servants, had got a small jug of "stuff" and were taking advantage of the night for enjoying themselves at their favorite amusement.

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Ide listened to their talk till he began to grow cold, when he bethought himself it might be a good scheme to find out where they were, to frighten them into the belief that their card-playing had attracted the especial displeasure of the adversary of souls. There is still a latent superstition in the breast of a great portion of the Puritan descendants respecting the use of the "devil's Bible," and many a stout rustic has, after an evening spent in such sinful indulgence, paid dearly for his pleasure when the hour has approached that Tam maun ride." I remember the house-carpenter, when the new shed was built, telling us children one day at dinner, how in crossing the Great Side-Hill Piece one pitch-dark night, he stumbled over an old black cow, who suddenly started up and "mooed," (as well she away and fell on his knees crying" Spare might,) whereupon he threw his cards. me!"-and that though it soon came to him what had happened, yet those few moments of agony were enough to make him resolve never to burden his conscience with the sin again, and that he had "never touched a card from that hour."

what he was going to do, that he could hardly compose his muscles as he placed his mouth close to the aperture and gave a low prolonged groan. Instantly the

conversation at the other terminus was

"Depart hence!"

Immediately he heard a clatter of boots and boards, and in a moment all was still. He blew out his light and jumped into bed shaking with cold and laugther.

Next morning, (and a bright snowy morning it was,) when all were assembled in the breakfast-room, there was much illconcealed mirth when the lawyer made his appearance with red eyes and haggard cheeks, but with locks as glossy as ever. The story of his being tipsy the night before had got among the young ladies, and there was a vast deal of sly remark; the conversation hung upon the subject of temperance, till some one asked the lawyer whether he believed in spirits?

He was too thoroughly horrified by what he had passed through not to auswer yes. This only provoked the query as to what sort of spirits he believed in, and there was then so much smiling and exchanging of glances that it finally attracted the attention of Mrs. Blanding, who would not have any of her' guests treated impolitely.

But she was only able to restrain the young people within the limits of decency. The lawyer's disposition had never made him a general favorite, and now his having drank too much in the presence of young ladies at a social party, and disturbed the house of his entertainer at night by hearing hobgoblins in his chamber, was an offence which his tormentors were not disposed to consider very venial. As to the wig, the young gentlemen found that little was to be made of that-the girls being already accurately informed respecting the fact of its existence. But

and John Fogger was made pretty clearly aware by the time he got into his chaise, that his character was as well understood by his associates as it appeared to be by the beings Providence permits to infest the darkness.

This night did more to shake his inordinate conceit, and render him careful of wounding his conscience, than anything which had ever occurred to him in all his life before. Whenever he visited hereafter, he saw that he must, if he wished to retain a place in the esteem of his acquaintances, exert himself to be agreeable. Whenever, in the course of his practice, he was tempted to dishonor his profession by mean artifices, or acts of unfaithfulness to his clients, the terrible words,

"Jack, you cheated-you're a KOON!"

seemed to ring in his ears and warn him of the danger of yielding.

In all these respects the incident had upon him an effect most salutary. He dared not mention the subject to any one. Once or twice he did so, but the absurdity of the words he affirmed that he heard, only confirmed the opinion of his inebriety, and he was obliged to beg, with tears in his eyes, that nothing might be mentioned of it, lest the "Gone Koon" should adhere to him and become a nickname.

When the company had mostly departed that morning, one of the housemaids whis pered to Harry, that the coachman woad take it a great favor to be allowed a wid with him. This was what he had expected. He accordingly put on his hat and s tered down to the stables, wishing to ge Wells an opportunity to unburden hins f unseen by others. That individual. w20 appeared much agitated, was attending to his horses. In order to bring him to the point at once, and at the same time 50 him into keeping the affair a secca, Harry began by saying, in a grave tore, that he believed there had been some card-playing about there last night. Pr Wells, seeing that Ide knew so much of the matter, became on the instant like a tir à school-boy, who dares not speak untruth

He said that seeing they were together. himself and the hired man, along Squire Davis's and Mr. Hodgkinson's vers, had thought to have a good on

d had taken a little jug of "Stingo," | ich belonged to the hired man, and an d pack of cards he himself had in his est, and had gone up into the room over e stable to play-only for fun. This om, he said, had been roughly finished F in Mr. Dalton's time, for the porter, who sed to stay there; that it had a fire-place, d thus they could make themselves comrtable. There they were, after they had one waiting in the house, till some time ter midnight, when they thought they eard a queer noise; however, they did ot mind that much, but took another pull t the jug and went on with their game. About an hour after-but I need not epeat what the reader knows already. The consternation and confusion in which hey broke up can be imagined.

Ide listened to all this with the most solemn face he could assume, and then isked Wells to show him the room. This he readily did; but no persuasion could inluce him to enter. Our young necromancer found it to be a small, roughlyplastered apartment, with a pine table overturned, and two or three old chairs, only one of which remained upright. After a little searching he soon discovered the extremity of the tube, which was just covered by the plastering, and was placed in a part of the room which might have been by the head of the old porter's couch, when he inhabited it.

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He said nothing of this as he came out, but advised Wells, with an air of the most profound mystery, to give him the key; the room was not needed or used for any purpose, and there were "important reawhy it had better remain closed. He also enjoined upon Wells the strictest secrecy; should it come to the ear of any but those who knew it already, "though he had learned many strange things in books, he could not be answerab'e for the consequences." As to card-playing, if it ever were repeated by Wells after what had occurred, let it never be done after ten o'clock at night, or on Sundays; on holidays, such as election days, and May trainings, it might be indulged in to a limited extent harmlessly; at all other hours, beware. The jug must be broken and the pieces buried that night, thirty paces from the corner of the barn, towards the North Star. Liquor, of the sort it

contained, could only be taken three times a week by those who had been three times called, and never, then, to excess. If he carefully followed these directions, Harry assured Wells no harm would come to him-but he must particularly avoid hinting of it to Sally, the housemaid.

So saying, Ide took the rusty key and left the coachman much relieved to find the condition of things no worse. As for the telling of it, Wells felt pretty secure, for he knew the others would never let out what would cost them their places. Indeed, two of them had already begun to fancy, either that one of the rest had played upon the others, or that it was but a freak of their tipsy imaginations; for no two of them had accurate memories enough to be able to agree as to the precise words they seemed to have heard.

Ide resolved to reserve his discovery till some favorable opportunity for having a frolic out of it, and therefore said nothing to his friend Stephen. They remained till the end of the week, two days after the party; and we may be sure that during their stay, the old mansion contained a merry household. The young folks told stories of evenings, sang, danced, played at forfeits, quarrelled, made up again, and amused themselves in general after this fashion, till Stephen, who was of a rather quiet temperament, like his mother, grew no more afraid of his cousin, while Ide and Miss Julia openly declared themselves lovers, in order to conceal that they were so in secret.

No opportunity occurred for his contemplated jest, and he forgot it entirely, till some days after, in his room, at college, he found the old key in a pocket and thrust it into his desk.

Were I to follow the example of many great narrators, and preface the divisions of this history with mottoes from the poets, I might now use the words which Shakspeare has put into the mouth of Gower, in the prologue to the fourth act of Pericles, Prince of Tyre:

"The unborn event
I do commend to your content:
Only I carry winged time
Post on the lame feet of my rhyme;
Which never could I so convey
Unless your thoughts went on my way."

For the reader must now be requested | to transport himself in fancy to a period three years later than events herein previously recorded.

During this time our fair demoiselles had become young women, and our gay cavaliers had graduated and were preparing, each in his own way, to enter upon the duties of manhood. Their youthful acquaintance had ripened into intimate friendship, and something considerably more. Harry Ide and Julia Blanding had long been what in sport they used formerly to style themselves, avowed lovers; while between Stephen and his cousin Henrietta there existed a mutual attachment which, though it had never expressed itself, except in slight pressures of hands, or, it may have been, a few stolen kisses, was perhaps quite as strong and tender as if it had found language.

Ide and Julia were of a free cheerful temperament. They could command their nerves, in situations which to others no less brave, would have been embarrassing. Nothing could shake their vivacity or shed a paleness over their glow of health. What they resolved they could accomplish; as for sentiment, though they had it in plenty, yet they would never confess so much to themselves. They were the life of all companies where they visited. Never was such a dancer as Julia Blanding, or so capital a fellow or "puffickly gemmly" (as the dandy students phrased it) a man as Harry Ide. But nothing was known of any engagement between them; they were quite competent to the management of their own affairs, in their own way. By the growth of their affection, each had, without being aware of it, exchanged some portion of original disposition with the other; thus Julia, without losing aught of her original feminineness, had acquired something of Harry's manly courage; while he, the most athletic of his time at the university, instead of turning out a boisterous merry companion, the hero of convivial clubs and anniversary dinners, had falsified prophecy by subsiding into a person of gentle thoughts and manners.

The same interfusion had taken place between Stephen and Henrietta. He who it was feared would injure his health by too close an application to study, had

found a worthier object in the world of real life; his reserve also, which it was supposed would always stand in his way, had vanished out and left him simply a plain business man of unobtrusive manners, but quite social and open in conversation. Henrietta also had passed safely over the great ocean of sentiment, upon whose dark heaving bosom so many tall young girls, like beautiful seaboats, founder and perish,—some (if the figure may be so hunted,) to sink into the fathomless depths of speculation, others to be riven and scattered by superstition and the many cross currents that make havoc of such poor wrecks. She had found rest for her heart, and thereby her pure mind had opportunity to expand and her decate fancy to bloom and ripen. Both she and Stephen were constitutionally fond of music, and through the enjoyment of this congeniality they had a life and a language of their own. Though each still seemed to others, if anything, cold and formal towards the other, and though no words had ever passed between them, they lived in a world where their manners seemed to each most affectionate, and possessed a language through which they could express in a moment what poor halting speech would toil after in vain. Thus their hearts grew together as time werd by, and thus the two whom even Jua was often puzzled about, sometimes hiding to the opinion that they loved each other, and then (when in her badinage she had said something unwittingly which had alarmed her cousin's excessive privacy.) thinking herself deceived, each felt that life would be intolerable without the other.

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