“USE ACCORDING TO JUDGMENT.” What could this mean? How should the patient know what rules to observe in the use of this box of “medicine,” limited as was his knowledge of the art of Esculapius? Still, it would do no harm to open the box and see what manner of medicine it contained. This proceeding being carried out, developed the fact that it contained several hard, shiny, yellowish, metallic, button-shaped “pills,” wrapped in paper, each containing the following strange inscription: “ACIREMA FO SETATS DETINU. LOD EVIF.” CHAPTER XLIX. A STARTLING BUNDLE. EARLY one Monday morning in August, after a sojourn of about three months in San Francisco, in the course of which I had been, on the whole, rather prosperous than otherwise, I was sitting in the office of the “Golden City,” when I suddenly, without knowing why, conceived the idea of returning to “the States.” The steamer _Nevada_, of the “Opposition Line,” was to leave for Panama on the ensuing Wednesday; and I walked down to the office of the company and bought a ticket—being just in time to secure the last stateroom. The astonishment and sadness of my numerous friends—for by this time there were two full semicircles of them in San Francisco—on learning of this rash act, were a source of mingled amusement and pain to me. I half regretted what I had done, and if I had not already purchased my ticket, I should have relinquished the idea of going. But the die was cast, and, concealing from them the regret I felt, I lightly reminded them that they too well knew that “When I took a notion to go to any place,” I was moderately certain to go. Not till the steamer floated away from the pier amid the cheers and blessings of several thousand spectators, and I saw the waving hands, hats, and handkerchiefs, and heard the friendly farewells of a score who had come to see me off, and of hundreds who had come to bid other passengers adieu, did I fully realize that I was leaving the city I had so soon learned to love—again starting on a long journey of more than five thousand geographic miles. When I did realize it, it was with a depth of sadness I cannot describe: and had I not been a man, I think I should hardly have subdued that moisture of the eyes that is looked upon as an evidence of weakness—though it is sometimes a noble and heavenly weakness!