whatever form or size, but appeared to possess hieroglyphics on some part or other. After surveying these articles for some time with no little interest, I passed into the garden, in which there were small parterres of flowers, and two or three trees, and which, where the house did not abut, was bounded by a wall; turning to the right by a walk by the side of the house, I passed by a door—probably the one I had seen at the end of the passage—and arrived at another window similar to that through which I had come, and which also stood open; I was about to pass by it; when I heard the voice of my entertainer exclaiming: “Is that you? pray come in.” I entered the room, which seemed to be a counterpart of the one which I had just left. It was of the same size, had the same kind of furniture, and appeared to be equally well stocked with china; one prominent article it possessed, however, which the other room did not exhibit—namely, a clock, which, with its pendulum moving tick-a-tick, hung against the wall opposite to the door, the sight of which made me conclude that the sound which methought I had heard in the stillness of the night was not an imaginary one. There it hung on the wall, with its pendulum moving tick-a-tick. The old gentleman was seated in an easy-chair a little way into the room, having the glass door on his right hand. On a table before him lay a large open volume, in which I observed Roman letters as well as characters. A few inches beyond the book on the table, covered all over with hieroglyphics, stood a china vase. The eyes of the old man were fixed upon it. “Sit down,” said he, motioning me with his hand to a stool close by, but without taking his eyes from the vase. “I can’t make it out,” said he at last, removing his eyes from the vase, and leaning back on the chair, “I can’t make it out.” “I wish I could assist you,” said I. “Assist me,” said the old man, looking at me with a half smile. “Yes,” said I, “but I do not understand Chinese.” “I suppose not,” said the old man, with another slight smile; “but—but—” “Pray proceed,” said I. “I wished to ask you,” said the old man, “how you knew that the characters on yon piece of crockery were Chinese; or, indeed, that there was such a language?” “I knew the crockery was china,” said I, “and naturally enough supposed what was written upon it to be Chinese; as for there being such a language—the English have a language, the French have a language, and why not the Chinese?” “May I ask you a question?” “As many as you like.” “Do you know any language besides English?” “Yes,” said I, “I know a little of two or three.” “May I ask their names?” “Why not?” said I, “I know a little French.” “Anything else?” “Yes, a little Welsh, and a little Haik.” “What is Haik?” “Armenian.” “I am glad to see you in my house,” said the old man, shaking me by the hand; “how singular that one coming as you did should know Armenian.”