and
dissimilar passion, _i.e._, Love. Esteemed sir, speaking or
writing to you as unto the only man of exclusively white
blood whom I believe is in Louisiana willing to do my dumb,
suffering race the real justice, I love Palmyre la Philosophe
with a madness which is by the human lips or tongues not
possible to be exclaimed (as, I may add, that I have in the
same like manner since exactley nine years and seven months
and some days). Alas! heavens! I can't help it in the least
particles at all! What, what shall I do, for ah! it is
pitiful! She loves me not at all, but, on the other hand, is
(if I suspicion not wrongfully) wrapped up head and ears in
devotion of one who does not love her, either, so cold and
incapable of appreciation is he. I allude to Honore
Grandissime.

Ah! well do I remember the day when we returned--he and
me--from the France. She was there when we landed on that
levee, she was among that throng of kindreds and domestiques,
she shind like the evening star as she stood there (it was
the first time I saw her, but she was known to him when at
fifteen he left his home, but I resided not under my own
white father's roof--not at all--far from that). She cried
out "A la fin to vini!" and leap herself with both
resplendant arm around his neck and kist him twice on the one
cheek and the other, and her resplendant eyes shining with a
so great beauty.

If you will give me a _poudre d'amour_ such as I doubt not
your great knowledge enable you to make of a power that
cannot to be resist, while still at the same time of a
harmless character toward the life or the health of such that
I shall succeed in its use to gain the affections of that
emperice of my soul, I hesitate not to give you such price as
it may please you to nominate up as high as to $l,000--nay,
more. Sir, will you do that?

I have the honor to remain, sir,

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

H. Grandissime.

Frowenfeld slowly transferred his gaze from the paper to his landlord's
face. Dejection and hope struggled with each other in the gaze that was
returned; but when Joseph said, with a countenance full of pity, "I have
no power to help you," the disappointed lover merely looked fixedly for
a moment in the direction of the street, then lifted his hat tow