A second time now came the fiddler forth, and soon methought I stood
within a surgeon's operating hall. The player drew his bow as though it
were a knife, gliding over the limb of a subject in a sleep.
So keen the blade, so soft the touch, the sleeper did not wake! I
clutched my knees--my breath did cease!
The skin divides!
And still he sleeps.
The muscles and the tendons fall apart!
He moves not.
Oh! That glittering blade
It deeper goes!
A--Ah!
He wakes!
He yells!
Horror! And now, through flesh and bones that vengeful weapon grinds!
'Mid screams and oaths!
Down falls the leg...
I staggered forward. My hat, which much clamor in the rear had not made
me remove, fell over the iron rail and plunged, resounding ike a sinful
drum, upon the head of a painted Jersey belle below.
I heeded not, but groped me to the door.
And now I write to thee, friend PUNCHINELLO. Can thee buy me such a
fiddle in New-York? Thy friend,
VENTER CLUPLE.
* * * * *
A Puzzler.
The Belgians, it is said, are anxious to have the letter _h_ dropped
from the French alphabet. As that contains no _w_, how, in the event of
a new elision, will the Parisians, who are so fond of English words,
manage to spell _wheelwright_?
* * * * *
A Blow that Hurteth not.
The Blow of a flower.
* * * * *
A Pleasant Prospect.
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