curiously carved Norman doorway, and took them over the church, wherein were many stately monuments of members of the family who had lived at the mansion hard by. Mr. Bouncer, to whom Dr. Dustacre was making himself very agreeable, had joined this party, and was requested by one of the female patients to show her the tomb of Abel. In answer to an expressive look of the Doctor's, Mr. Bouncer pointed out a small tombstone in a corner of the south aisle; with which information the patient appeared perfectly satisfied, merely saying, "Poor Abel! he was a keeper of sheep. My father was a shepherd; but he kept out of wicked Cain's way." One of the male patients appeared to be quite an archaæologist, and gave a very correct description both of the church and the dates of the various styles in which it was built. "I perfectly remember," he said to Dr. Dustacre," that Early English capital being carved." The Doctor quietly explained to Mr. Bouncer that this patient's fancy was that he was a son of Methusaleh, and that he had already lived through a thousand years. Another patient, who had appeared to be perfectly rational while walking through the church, became somewhat excited, as they returned to the hill, at hearing some one speak of a field of turnips near to which they passed. It appeared that he was under the delusion that his head was a turnip, and that it would, some day, be appropriated for culinary purposes. But the peculiar fancies of many of the patients were not evidenced throughout the day.
When they had returned to the summit of Firs Hill, the brass band of the institution began to play a lively air. This band was not only a significant feature in the government of a lunatic asylum conducted on humane
