"Phrenology," said the little, old, bald-headed lecturer and
mesmerist, thumbing the egg-shaped head of a young man I remembered to
have met that afternoon in some law office; "Phrenology," repeated the
professor--"or rather the _term_ phrenology--is derived from two Greek
words signifying _mind_ and _discourse_; hence we find embodied in
phrenology-proper, the science of intellectual measurement, together
with the capacity of intelligent communication of the varying mental
forces and their flexibilities, etc., &c. The study, then, of
phrenology is, to wholly simplify it--is, I say, the general
contemplation of the workings of the mind as made manifest through the
certain corresponding depressions and protuberances of the human
skull, when, of course, in a healthy state of action and development,
as we here find the conditions exemplified in the subject before us."

Here the "subject" vaguely smiled.

"You recognize that mug, don't you?" whispered my friend. "It's that
coruscating young ass, you know, Hedrick--in Cummings' office--trying
to study law and literature at the same time, and tampering with 'The
Monster that Annually,' don't you know?--where we found the two young
students scuffling round the office, and smelling of
peppermint?--Hedrick, you know, and Sweeney. Sweeney, the slim chap,
with the pallid face, and frog-eyes, and clammy hands! You remember I
told you 'there was a pair of 'em?' Well, they're up to something here
to-night. Hedrick, there on the stage in front; and Sweeney--don't you
see?--with the gang on the rear seats."

"Phrenology--again," continued the lecturer, "is, we may say, a
species of mental geography, as it were; which--by a study of the