n my face, and discerned that I had none of that abominable
spirit, characteristic though it be, of a full-blooded Yankee, which
takes pleasure in detecting every little harmless piece of knavery.

"Why, perhaps," said the ragged old mendicant, "if the bank is in good
standing, I can't say but I may have enough about me to change your
bill."

"It is a bill of the Suffolk Bank," said I, "and better than the
specie."

As the beggar had nothing to object, he now produced a small buff
leather bag tied up carefully with a shoe-string. When this was
opened, there appeared a very comfortable treasure of silver coins of
all sorts and sizes, and I even fancied that I saw gleaming among them
the golden plumage of that rare bird in our currency the American
eagle. In this precious heap was my bank-note deposited, the rate of
exchange being considerably against me.

His wants being thus relieved, the destitute man pulled out of his
pocket an old pack of greasy cards which had probably contributed to
fill the buff leather bag in more ways than one.

"Come!" said he; "I spy a rare fortune in your face, and for
twenty-five cents more I'll tell you what it is."

I never refuse to take a glimpse into futurity; so, after shuffling
the cards and when the fair damsel had cut them, I dealt a portion to
the prophetic beggar. Like others of his profession, before predicting
the shadowy events that were moving on to meet me he gave proof of his
preternatural science by describing scenes through which I had already
passed.

Here let me have credit for a sober fact. When the old man had read a
page in his book of fate, he bent his keen gray eyes on mine and
proceeded to relate in all its minute particulars what was then the
most singular event of my life. It was one which I had no purpose to
disclose till the general unfolding of all secrets, nor would it be a
much stranger instance of inscrutable knowledge or fortunate
conjecture if the beggar were to meet me in the street today and
repeat word for word the page which I have here written.

The fortune-teller, after predicting a destiny which time seems loth
to make good, put up his cards, secreted his treasure-bag and began to
converse with the other occupants of the wagon.

"Well, old friend," said the showman, "you have not yet told us which
way your face is turned this afternoon."

"I am taking a trip northward this warm weather," replied the
conjurer, "across the Connecticut fi