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The candles were extinguished again, and pretty soon Miss Davenport told George to "don't." She spoke in an affrighted tone.The candles were lit, and she was discovered sitting on the table--hands and feet tied as before, and herself tied to the chair withal.The lights were again blown out, there were sounds as if some one was lifting her from the table; the candles were relit, and she was seen sitting in the chair on the floor again.No one had been near her from the audience.Again the lights were extinguished, and presently the medium said her feet were wet.It appeared that the mischievous spirit of one Biddie, an Irish Miss who died when twelve years old, had kicked over the water-pail.Miss Eighme took a seat at the table, and the same mischievous Biddie scissored off a liberal lock of her hair.There was the hair, and it had indisputably just been taken from Miss Eighme's head, and her hands and feet, like those of Miss D., were securely tied.Other things of a staggering character to the sceptic were done during the evening.

1.43.MR.BLOWHARD.

The reader has probably met Mr.Blowhard.He is usually round.You find him in all public places.He is particularly "numerous" at shows.Knows all the actors intimately.Went to school with some of 'em.Knows how much they get a month to a cent, and how much liquor they can hold to a teaspoonful.He knows Ned Forrest like a book.Has taken sundry drinks with Ned.Ned likes him much.Is well acquainted with a certain actress.Could have married her just as easy as not if he had wanted to.Didn't like her "style," and so concluded not to marry her.Knows Dan Rice well.Knows all of his men and horses.Is on terms of affectionate intimacy with Dan's rhinoceros, and is tolerably well acquainted with the performing elephant.We encountered Mr.Blowhard at the circus yesterday.He was entertaining those near him with a full account of the whole institution, men, boys, horses, "muils" and all.He said the rhinoceros was perfectly harmless, as his teeth had all been taken out in infancy.Besides, the rhinoceros was under the influence of opium while he was in the ring, which entirely prevented his injuring anybody.No danger whatever.In due course of time the amiable beast was led into the ring.When the cord was taken from his nose, he turned suddenly and manifested a slight desire to run violently in among some boys who were seated near the musicians.

The keeper, with the assistance of one of the Bedouin Arabs, soon induced him to change his mind, and got him in the middle of the ring.The pleasant quadruped had no sooner arrived here than he hastily started, with a melodious bellow, towards the seats on one of which sat Mr.Blowhard.Each particular hair on Mr.Blowhard's head stood up "like squills upon the speckled porkupine" (Shakspeare or Artemus Ward, we forget which), and he fell, with a small shriek, down through the seats to the ground.He remained there until the agitated rhinoceros became calm, when he crawled slowly back to his seat.

"Keep mum," he said, with a very wise shake of the head "I only wanted to have some fun with them folks above us.I swar, I'll bet the whisky they thought I was scared!" Great character that Blowhard.

1.44.MARKET MORNING.

"Hurrah! this is market day, Up, lads, and gaily away!"--Old Comedy.

On market mornings there is a roar and a crash all about the corner of Kinsman and Pittsburg Streets.The market building--so called, we presume, because it don't in the least resemble a market building--is crowded with beef and butchers, and almost countless meat and vegetable wagons, of all sorts, are confusedly huddled together all around outside.These wagons mostly come from a few miles out of town, and are always on the spot at daybreak.A little after sunrise the crash and jam commences, and continues with little cessation until ten o'clock in the forenoon.There is a babel of tongues, an excessively cosmopolitan gathering of people, a roar of wheels, and a lively smell of beef and vegetables.The soap man, the headache curative man, the razor man, and a variety of other tolerable humbugs, are in full blast.We meet married men with baskets in their hands.Those who have been fortunate in their selections look happy, while some who have been unlucky wear a dejected air, for they are probably destined to get pieces of their wives' minds on their arrival home.It is true, that all married men have their own way, but the trouble is they don't all have their own way of having it! We meet a newly-married man.He has recently set up housekeeping.He is out to buy steak for breakfast.There are only himself and wife and female domestic in the family.He shows us his basket, which contains steak enough for at least ten able-bodied men.We tell him so, but he says we don't know anything about war, and passes on.Here comes a lady of high degree, who has no end of servants to send to the market, but she likes to come herself, and it won't prevent her shining and sparkling in her elegant drawing-room this afternoon.And she is accumulating muscle and freshness of face by these walks to market.

And here IS a charming picture.Standing beside a vegetable cart is a maiden beautiful and sweeter far than any daisy in the fields.