"Why not?" I said.

"I will tell you, Sir," said the lan'lord. "My son-in-law is
employed in a bankin house where ev'ry American as comes to these
shores goes to git his drafts casht, and he says that not one has
arrived on these shores during the last 18 months as wasn't a
Gen'ral, a Colonial, a Majer, a Capting, or a leftenant! This
man, as I said afore, has deceeved you! He's a imposture!"

I reeled into a chair. For a minit I was speechlis. At length I
murmured, "Alars! I fear it is too troo! Even I was a Capting
of the Home Gards."

"To be sure," said the lan'lord; "you all do it over there."

"Wall," I said, "whatever nation this person belongs to, we may
as well go and hear him lectur this evenin. He is one of these
spirit fellers--he is a Trans-Mejim, and when he slings himself
into a trans-state he says the sperits of departed great men talk
through him. He says that to-night sev'ril em'nent persons will
speak through him--among others, Cromwell."

"And this Mr. Cromwell--is he dead?" said the lan'lord.

I told him that Oliver was no more.

"It's a umbug," said the lan'lord; to which I replied that we'd
best go and see, and we went. We was late, on account of the
lan'lord's extensiv acquaintans with the public house keepers