"A dream of a very singular nature occurred to a young friend of mine," said Mr. S. "She was about fifteen at the time, and a schoolfellow who was going to be married had promised her that she should be one of the bridesmaids. The intended wedding was near at hand; insomuch that the dresses and everything was prepared--in short, the fixing of the day was only delayed by some small matter of business that was not completed. My young friend, to whom the whole thing was an exciting novelty, while impatiently waiting for the affair to come off, dreamt, one night, that a person in a very unusual costume, presented himself at her bedside and informed her that he was Brutus; and that he would reveal to her anything that she particularly desired to know; whereupon she begged him to tell when Miss L. would be married. Brutus answered 'Paulo post Graecas Kalendas.' When she awoke in the morning, she perfectly remembered the words; but not having the most distant idea of their meaning she ran to her brother to enquire if he could explain them. He told her that they were equivalent to _never_. The prophecy was fulfilled; obstacles entirely unforseen arose, and the couple were never united." "Some years ago," said Dr. Forster, "two young friends of mine were staying at Naples, when one of them told the other that he had on the preceding night, seen in his sleep, the face of a beautiful woman; but the features were disfigured by a horrible expression--and that it was, somehow, impressed on his mind that he was in danger, and that he must be on his guard against her. The conviction was so strong as to create considerable uneasiness, and he never went out without scrutinizing every female face he saw; but some weeks past without any fulfilment of his dream or vision, and gradually the impression faded. However, he was one day on the Chiaja, surrounded by several people, who like himself, were observing a gang of convicts going to the Castle of St. Elmo; when something occasioned him suddenly to turn his head, and there, close behind him, he recognized the beautiful face of his dream. By an instinctive impulse, he sprang aside, and at the same moment felt himself wounded in the back. The woman was seized and did not attempt to deny the act, but alleged that she had mistaken the young Englishman for another person who had done her an irreparable injury, expressing great regret at having wounded an unoffending stranger, and also at having failed in the revenge she sought. He told me that the dream saved his life; for that, had he not sprung aside, the wound would in all probability have been mortal." ROUND THE FIRE. FIFTH EVENING.