It was quite dark, and the old negro was shuffling along King Street, crying, "Masser Rob'son lost, Masser Rob'son lost," when suddenly he was brought to a halt, and silenced by some one saying,-- "What's that you are crying, Neb?" His name was Nebuchadnezzar. "O, de Lord! if Masser Dr. Rob'son hain't been an' loss hisself!" "You old fool, Neb, I am your master--Dr. Robertson. Don't you know me now?" exclaimed a familiar voice. Sure enough, it was the doctor, returning from his numerous visits, tired and dust-covered. The whole thing solemnly impressed the old darky, who, a day or two later, was met by a ranting Methodist, vulgarly termed a "_carpet-bagger_," who, in a solemn voice, said,-- "My colored friend, have you yet found the Lord Jesus?" "O, golly, masser!" exclaimed the old negro in astonishment; "hab de Lord done gone an' loss hisself?" (I have seen the last part of this anecdote floating about the newspapers; but did ever any one see the former connection, or even the latter before 1852?) The writer was but a poor medical student, and an invalid, seeking here a more salubrious climate, away from the frosts and snows of his northern home, and though twenty years have since flown, I have not forgotten, and never shall, the kindness and attention received at the hands of the benevolent Dr. Robertson. While many who went out with me that fall fell victims to the fearful endemic before Jack Frost put a stop to its ravages, I escaped the grim monster Death; and to the superior knowledge and efficient treatment of Dr. R., with the excellent care of the benevolent landlady, Mrs. Butterfield, I owe my life. Morning and evening the doctor's patter-patter was heard on the stairs,--three flights to climb. The whole case was gone over, and then, if the good old doctor had a moment to spare, he would retail some little anecdote "with which to leave me in good spirits." The following is one:-- "Mr. Bacon, of Edgefield, was once courting a lady who had frequently refused him; but he, with commendable perseverance, had as often renewed the suit, until at last she became so exceedingly annoyed at his importunities that she told him that she could never marry a man whose tastes, opinions, likes and dislikes were so completely in opposition to her own as were his. "'In fact, Mr. Bacon,' she is represented as having said, 'I do not think there is one subject on earth upon which we could agree.' "'I assure you, dear madam, that you are mistaken, which I can prove.' "'If you will mention one, I will agree to marry you,' replied the lady. "'Well, I will do it,' replied Mr. Bacon. 'Suppose now you and I were travelling together; we arrive at a hotel which is crowded; there are only two rooms not entirely occupied, in one of which there is a man, in the other a woman: with which would you prefer to sleep?' "The lady arose indignantly, and replied, 'With the woman, of course, sir.' "'So would I,' replied Mr. Bacon, triumphantly."