“That's _yourself_” mumbled the female voice--in the way one announces a discovery--“Yes, I see, by the cards, that your question applies to yourself. You are a _young_ man, that wants not for friends; and you have _merit!_ You have friends that you deserve; the cards tells me _that!_” “Well, I'll not deny the truth of what you assert; and, I must say, Dirck, it _is_ a little strange, this woman, who never saw me before, should know me so well--my very natur', as it might be. But, do you think, I shall do well to follow up the affair I am now on, or that I had best give it up?” “Give up nothing,” answered the oracle, in a very oracular manner, shuffling the cards as she spoke; “no, give up nothing, but keep all you can. That is the way to thrive, in this world.” “By the Hokey, Dirck, she gives good advice, and I think I shall follow it! But how about the land, and the mill-seat--or, rather, how about the particular things I'm thinking about?” “You are thinking of purchasing--yes, the cards say purchasing; or is it 'disposing--'” “Why, as I've got none to sell, it can't very well be disposing, Mother.” “Yes, I'm right--this Jack of Clubs settles the matter--you are thinking of buying some land--Ah! there's water running down-hill; and here I see a pond--Why, you are thinking of buying a mill-seat.” “By the Hokey!--Who would have thought this, Dirck!” “Not a _mill_; no, there is _no_ mill built; but a mill-_seat_. Six, king, three and an ace; yes, I see how it is--and you wish to get this mill-seat at much less than its real value. _Much_ less; not less, but _much_ less.” “Well, this is wonderful! I'll never gainsay fortin-tellin' ag'in!” exclaimed Jason. “Dirck, you are to say nothin' of this, or _think_ nothin' of this--as it's all in confidence, you know. Now, jist put in a last word, about the end of life, Mother, and I'll be satisfied. What you have told me about my fortin and earnin's must be true, I think, for my whole heart is in them; but I should like to know, after enjoying so much wealth and happiness as you've foretold, what sort of an end I am to make of it?” “An excellent end--full of grace, and hope, and Christian faith. I see here, something that looks like a clergyman's gown--white sleeves--book under the arm--” “That can't be _me_. Mother, as I'm no lover of forms, but belong to the platform.” “Oh! I see how it is, now; you dislike Church of England people, and could throw dirt at them. Yes, yes--here _you_ are--a presbyterian deacon, and one that can lead in a private meeting, on an occasion.” “Come, Dirck, I'm satisfied--let us go; we have kept Mother Doorichaise long enough, and I heard some visiters come in, just now. Thank you, mother--thank you, with all my heart; I think there _must_ be some truth in this fortin-tellin' after all!”