I was anxious to return to my furniture polish, but the Doctor would
have nothing of the kind. He declared himself a gentleman of too much
refinement and dignity to allow a man in his company to descend to
peddling from house to house.

I concluded to stay with him till his money gave out.

At Ypsilanti our business, as usual, was a total failure. The Doctor
said he knew of a town where we would be sure to meet with the grandest
success. The name of the town was Pontiac.

I at once sent notices to the papers there, and some circulars to the
landlord of one of the hotels, announcing the early arrival of the
celebrated Clairvoyant physician, Doctor ----.

The Doctor was so very sanguine of success in this particular town, that
we built our hopes on making a small fortune in a very short time.
Consequently we talked about it a great deal.

Whenever it became necessary to speak of Pontiac, I found it almost
impossible to remember the name; but the name Pocahontas would
invariably come to my mind in its stead.

This caused me so much annoyance that I proposed to the doctor that we
call it thus. This he agreed to, and thereafter Pontiac was dead to us,
and Pocahontas arose from its ashes. We very soon became so accustomed
to the change as to be unable to think of the right name when necessary
to do so.

When we were ready to leave Ypsilanti we walked to the depot, not, of
course, because it expensive to ride, but just for exercise, "you know."

On our way, the Doctor happened to think that we must leave orders at
the post office to have our mail forwarded.

I accompanied him there. He stepped up to the delivery window and said:

"My name is Doctor ----. If any mail comes for me here, please forward it
to Pocahontas."

"Pocahontas?" the clerk queried.

"Yes sir, Pocahontas, Michigan."

"I guess you're mistaken, Doctor,--at least I----"

"Not by a dang sight! I guess I know where I am going," was the Doctor's
answer.

I began laughing, and started to leave, when the Doctor saw his blunder
and said, excitedly:

"No, no! My mistake; my mistake, Mr. clerk. I mean--I mean--dang
it!--Dod blast it! what do I mean?--Where am I going? Where the devil
is it? Why you know, don't you? Dang it! where is it? Johnston, you
devilish fool! come and tell this man the name of that cussed town. Why
it's Poca--no, no; here, Johnston, I knew you would make consummate
fools of us. I knew it all the time."

By this time severa