“Large streams from little fountains flow, Large aches from little toe-corns grow.” During the past week my attention was attracted by a large placard embellishing the corners of our streets, headed in mighty capitals with the word “PHRENOLOGY,” and illustrated by a map of a man’s head, closely shaven and laid off in lots, duly numbered from one to forty-seven. Beneath this edifying illustration appeared a legend, informing the inhabitants of San Diego and vicinity that Professor Dodge had arrived and taken rooms (which was inaccurate, as he had but one room) at Gyascutus House, where he would be happy to examine and furnish them with a chart of their heads, showing the moral and intellectual endowments, at the low price of three dollars each. Always gratified with an opportunity of spending my money and making scientific researches, I immediately had my hair cut and carefully combed, and hastened to present myself and my head to the Professor’s notice. I found him a tall and thin Professor, in a suit of rusty, not to say seedy black, with a closely-buttoned vest, and no perceptible shirtcollar or wristbands. His nose was red, his spectacles were blue, and he wore a brown wig, beneath which, as I subsequently ascertained, his bald head was laid off in lots, marked and numbered with Indian ink, after the manner of the diagram upon his advertisement. Upon a small table lay many little books with yellow covers, several of the placards, pen and ink, a pair of iron callipers with brass knobs, and six dollars in silver. Having explained the object of my visit, and increased the pile of silver by six half-dollars from my pocket—whereat he smiled, and I observed he wore false teeth (scientific men always do; they love to encourage art)—the Professor placed me in a chair, and rapidly manipulating my head, after the manner of a _shampooh_ (I am not certain as to the orthography of this expression), said that my temperament was “lymphatic, nervous, bilious.” I remarked that “I thought myself dyspeptic,” but he made no reply. Then, seizing on the callipers, he embraced with them my head in various places, and made notes upon a small card that lay near him on the table. He then stated that my “hair was getting very thin on the top,” placed in my hand one of the yellow-covered books, which I found to be an almanac containing anecdotes about the virtue of Dodge’s Hair Invigorator, and recommending it to my perusal, he remarked that he was agent for the sale of this wonderful fluid, and urged me to purchase a bottle—price two dollars. Stating my willingness to do so, the Professor produced from a hair trunk that stood in the corner of the room, which he stated, by the way, was originally an ordinary pine box, on which the hair had grown since “the Invigorator” had been placed in it—(a singular fact)—and recommended me to be cautious in wearing gloves while rubbing it upon my