iate effects of this bean--whether white, black, Pythagorean,
Lima, kidney, or what not--were three-fold: 1. A pump-handle
hand-shaking; 2. A very thorough diagnosis of the weather, including a
rapid sketch by Duespeptos of the leading principles of caloric,
pneumatics, and hygrology; 3. An exchange of cards. That of which I was
the recipient consisted of a sheet of paste-board, rather begrimed and
wrinkled, of nearly the same dimensions as the Atlantic (Monthly, not
Ocean). The name and address occupied the middle of one side of the
document, while all the remaining space was filled in with manifold
closest scribblings in lead-pencil,--apparently notes, memoranda, and
the like. These were not at all private, so the new-found partner of my
bosom assured me. In fact, I should do well to look at them, and make
myself master of their contents. My friends also might find profit
therein. Stray hints might undoubtedly be gathered from them which would
lay open to my eyes the secret things of Nature and life. Thrusting it
into my pocket for the moment, I feasted myself in imagination with the
treasure that was mine, anticipating the happy hour that should make my
hope fruition. Then we, first elect of the bean, set ourselves to
determine the _status quo ante bellum_. And here came in once more the
fabaceous maker and marker of destiny, saying that blind justice
decreed, that, inasmuch as sound is wont to rise, he who was noonday
Sayer and midnight Snorer should couch below, while the Hearer should
circle above,--plainly a wise provision, that the good things of
Providence might not be wasted. Both Damon and Pythias agreed, that, for
once at least, the oracle was not ambiguous.

All things being at last arranged, the Rhapsodist took his leave for the
present, going, as he informed me, on an errand of mercy for his
stomach. The magazine aboard ship being of dubious character, he had
prevailed on himself to supply his concern with a limited number of
first-class cereals with his own _imprimatur_,--copyright and profits to
be in his own hands. As some consolation for his absence, I was favored
with a brief oral treatise on Fats, considered both dietetically and
ethically, with an appendix, somewhat _a la_ Liebig, on the nature, use,
and effects of tissue-making and heat-making food, nitrogen, carbon,
and the like. By way of improvement, a brilliant peroration was added,
supposed to be addressed through me to the mothers of America,