"This lady has a great taste for music. She would be like to excel as a musician. Am I right, sir?" "I guess you are," said Jonathan. "You'd ought to hear her sing in the choir to hum. She's got a powerful voice, Sally has. She can almost raise the rafters of the old meetin'-house." "You see, ladies and gentlemen, that the husband of the lady confirms what I say of her. Phrenology never errs. A phrenologist is never mistaken in character. Nature has stamped her impress upon each one of us, and declares unmistakably what we are." "Go ahead, professor," said Jonathan impatiently. "The lady has a taste for strong and decided colors. What is showy attracts her admiration." "That's so!" commented Jonathan. "She has a good deal of firmness, and likes to have her own way; as most of use do," added the professor. "Still she would yield to strong persuasion." It will be unnecessary to go farther in the examination which proved quite satisfactory to the young couple, and a source of amusement to the rest of the passengers. Jonathan next submitted himself to the professor's skill, and was highly delighted in being told that he was fitted to shine in public life, and might hereafter become a member of Congress. "I guess the folks at home will think more of me when they hear that," he remarked to Sally. "The professor has given us good characters." "So he has. Do you think it's all true, Jonathan?" "Of course it is. It's a wonderful science, Sally. I didn't know I had so many bumps." "Nor I. I can't feel 'em myself." "That's because you're not used to it. It takes the professor to do it." Other subjects were forthcoming, and the professor cleared three dollars during the evening. He understood human nature well enough to flatter all, without absolutely contradicting the science of which he claimed to be the exponent. Chapter XV An Old Convert to Phrenology About eleven o'clock the steamer stopped. A dense fog had sprung up, which made it perilous to proceed. Ben, who was a novice in traveling, got up to see what was the matter. He was on his way back to the stateroom, when he encountered a strange figure. The old lady was wandering about in dishabille, looking thoroughly alarmed. Recognizing Ben, she clutched his arm. "What has happened?" she asked, in a hollow voice, "Is the ship sinkin'?" "No, ma'am," answered Ben. "We have only stopped on account of the fog." "Something may run into us," exclaimed the old lady. "Oh, dear! I wish I had never left home." "You'd better go back to bed," said Ben soothingly. "There's no danger." "No, I won't," said the old woman resolutely. "I'm not going to be drowned in my bed. I'll stay here till mornin'." And she plumped down into an armchair, where she looked like an image of despair. "Hadn't you better put on something more?" suggested Ben. "You may get cold."