It may be mentioned here as an interesting fact, showing the strange mutability of human fortunes, that Jacob, the father of this wonderful being, once the slave of the planter McCoy, now owns, with his wife Monemia, the very plantation on which he was once a bondman, and on which Millie Christine first saw the light of day, the same having been purchased by her with the proceeds of her exhibitions as a present to her father and mother. It will be necessary to append to this sketch a few of the medical and surgical reports on Millie Christine’s physical organization; but it may not be uninteresting to give a brief description of her as she strikes the mind and eye of a familiar friend. Millie Christine, physically, has but one existence; mentally, she has two, perfectly developed. From the middle of the single spine grow two perfectly developed busts, each of which has a pair of fine arms, and terminates in an interesting head. Both heads are adorned with curling black hair; each has a pair of sparkling black eyes, constantly lit up by intelligence, which, at any outburst of fun and humor, seem literally to dance with glee; while each mouth is adorned with a set of brilliant teeth. The two faces are bright and interesting, but differ materially in features, one resembling Jacob, the father, the other Monemia, the mother. There is very little distinction to be made in the two developments. The two sets of brains always agree in forming the same conclusions; equally amiable, and equally agreeable in character, they never form different ideas on the same subjects, and the thoughts of each are characterized by that independence which is usually exhibited by natives of America. The tastes and habits of the two are alike; both are fond of music and dancing, both take interest in the same amusements; indeed, this marvelous organization shows its wonder in nothing more evidently than its perfect happiness. The two minds can converge each through its own lips. The being is never at a loss for society or for company, for each has, attached to itself, another existence; and yet in no single instance has a particle of disagreement ever occurred to conflict with the happiness or comfort of either. If the one mind formed the fancy to be in London, and the other desired its body to proceed to Paris, a conflict might ensue; providentially, this seems impossible, and has never occurred. Christine has a soprano voice, Millie a contralto; and they sing duets together with exquisite taste and sweetness. Their natural taste for music has been conscientiously and carefully cultivated by their kind protectress, and the public will not be slow to discover that they have as much power to please and amuse as a very large number of artistes of established reputation. It should now be stated that Millie Christine has four legs, on which she walks with grace and ease; but she can use the outer ones only for purposes of locomotion. She is a very graceful dancer,