[15] '_Quam viram aut heroa?_' may the reader ask; wherefore, for his benefit, we will declare, that the original of our hero was a Scottish physician, whom we heard at a 'public,' describing a miraculous visit to a 'weird woman.' After finishing his story, and a generous glass of whiskey-toddy, he went his way upon a sorry gray mare, whose acquaintance, I am confident, would have been cut by Rosinante, or Hudibras's famed Bucephalus, if she had solicited a passing recognition. The only change in the _circumstantia_, is his translation to another locality, and making the object of his pilgrimage one more immediately interesting here. [16] The motto of the Kirkpatrick family, derived from the answer of one of their 'forbears' to Robert Bruce, when he 'doubted he had slain the red Comyn'--'I make sicker'--we commend to the especial attention of the 'Faculty,' in the event of their application to the herald's college for a new blazonry of the professional arms. [17] 'Medicé vivere, est miseré vivere.' [18] Oleum Ricini, and Vinum Antimonii: Castor oil, and Wine of Antimony. OUR VILLAGE POST-OFFICE.[19] BY MISS SEDGWICK. 'WHY weep ye then, for him, who, having won The bound of man's appointed years, at last, Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done, Serenely to his final rest has passed; While the soft memory of his virtues yet Lingers like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set.' BRYANT. THE master of our village post-office for many years past was an old man; but the real dispenser of its joys and sorrows was his son, a youth who performed its duties with intelligence, exactness, and delicacy. Some persons may not be aware how much the last quality is called into requisition in a village post-master. Having the universal country acquaintance with his neighbors' affairs, he holds the key to all their correspondences. He knows, long before the news transpires, when the minister receives a call, when the speculator's affairs are vibrating; he can estimate the conjugal devotion of the absent husband; but most enviable is his knowledge of those delicate and uncertain affairs so provoking to village curiosity. Letters, directed in well-known characters, and written with beating hearts within locked apartments, pass through his hands. The blushing youth steals in at twilight to receive from him his doom; and to him is first known the results of a village belle's foray through a neighboring district. Our young deputy post-master rarely betrayed his involuntary acquaintance with the nature of the missives he dispersed; but, whenever sympathy was permitted, his bright smile and radiating or tearful eye would show how earnest a part he took in all his neighbors suffered or enjoyed. Never was there a kinder heart than Loyd Barnard's--never a truer mirror than his face.