It is a solemn truth that I, Q. K. Philander Doesticks, P.B., although neither a doctor, clergyman, nor Judge of the Supreme Court, have received a visit from the spirits. The secrets of the other world have been partially revealed to me.
I have had a glimpse of horse-heaven--a very fair view of the very blissful residence of pigs and poultry, and been vouchsafed a key-hole peep at the paradise of Spiritual Jackassdom.
I have discovered that Esop is a reliable historian, and I find that in a future world the power and liberty of quadrupedal speech will be restored in all its pristine euphony and elegance. Listen, wonder, and believe!
Some time since, I had a beloved and beautiful bull-terrier--(not the Bull Dogge alluded to in other epistles,) he was perfect in every point--his hair stuck out in multitudinous directions--his snarl was of the crossest--his teeth of the sharpest, and his ordinary behavior exhibited a general and impartial hatred of mankind. He was a canine Ishmael, for every man's hand was against him. His cognomen savored of the satanic. I called him Pluto.
He mysteriously disappeared--an offered reward of seven dollars and a half failed to restore him to my fireside. I tearfully gave him up, and mourned sincerely. I suspected the dog-killers, and wept for him as for one gone "to that bourne from which" bull-terriers don't come back.
Last evening I was aroused from a thoughtful contemplation of my nightcap (liquid and hot, with nutmeg,) by the unusual and remarkable conduct of a pet tom-cat, who deliberately climbed upon my lap, and, in a voice intelligible, if not absolutely musical, spoke to me--positively spoke to me!--he informed me that various spirits were present who desired to hold communication with me.
Having recovered somewhat from my momentary astonishment, I sung out to fire away.
No sooner said than done--the services of the feline "medium" were instantly dispensed with, and there suddenly appeared to my bewildered sight the unmistakable form of my lamented Pluto.
I was astonished, and so I said, but I could not be deluded--it was my "real, old, original, genuine" Pluto. I knew his warning growl--I recognized the friendly wag of his tail--I could have sworn to each particular hair.