Year: 1873

Facts are confined to the metropolis. I'M
agination hourishes in the suburbs We have
kept no record of the number of sleeping
Beauties fasting boys, living skeletons and
babies with tails, who had blighted but in
structive existence in the provinces, to say
nothing OF the male nonogenarians who have
never tasted whiskey and can read the finest
print without spectacles. Probably people
do exist who keep ledger OF these interesting
alterations from the path of nature, and who,
as the year rolls round compare the mon
strosities which are just beginning to dawn
upon them with those that have vanished in
the tomb. We regret that our memory is not
so faithful to its work as that Rocky Noun
tain order of romance to which we are in
debted for these startling notifications of
humanity. 1t would be interesting to read
all the particulars with respect to
the man with the perambulatory
heart and that other jest of nature
who from being blonde of the purest ala
baster, slowly assumed the complexion of the
negro. Still, since the supply gives no sign
of exhaustion, perhaps memory of those that
have gone is not so essential as credulity in
regard to those who are to follow. The latest
example concerning which the public is re-
quested to exercise its faith is that OF gentle
man named Willis Peyton, who is said to unite
in his experiences some of the most charming
of those enjoyed by Rip Van Winkle and Roger
Tichborne. This announcement prepares one
for the pleasure that is to come, and we are
not surprised to learn that two years ago Mr..
Peyton left his home at Malone, Washington
county, n. Y, and visited Terre Haute that
at Terre Haute he lost consciousness (many
man loses consciousness when away from
home), and when he came to himself found
that he was recovering from smallpox in a
hospital at Evansville, Ind that when he tried
to put his clothes on he found them all six
inches too small for him; while his best
friends disputed his identity. The account
which furnishes these brief but telling
facts adds, '.He would have denied his
own identity if it had not been for
his mind and other evidences that had been
familiar to him from his childhood" 1t is
indeed gratifying to learn that Mr.. Peyton
knew his own mind. Not all of US enjoy that
inestimabls privilege, and the remark above
quoted has a psychological smack about it
which proves that the writer is deep student
OF Herbert Spencer. "IIe first thought" con-
tinues our narrator, "of suicide, and his next
thought was of home This is not the first
case in which reflections upon home and the
impulse to suicide have been simultaneous,
but we are sorry to think they should have
been so with Mr. Peyton, with whom, on ac-
count of his sufferings, as well as Of the pain
his narrator has been at, we feel inclined to
sympathize. For though man who attains
six inches in six weeks naturally grows out of
the recollection of his friends. he is not the
less a fit subject for commseration. However,
to bring the history to q close, Mr.. Peyton
went back to his wife, who, instead of receiv-
ing him, looked upon him as an impostor,
turned him out of doors and had him sent
to Jail This, Of course, was the proper time
10 show the various marks upon his person by
which identity could be established. shield
on his right arm and an anchor on his left
were triumphantly exhibited and recognized,
though, Of course they had become elongated
in order to correspond to Mr.. Peyton's rapid
increase Of height. There is delicious homo
geneousness in this part of the statement from
which it would not be just to withhold
passing tribute. The case will, Of course,
come up in a court Of law, but it would be an
act Of supererogation in US to pronounce any
opinion as to the probable decision. What we





sympathies go with Mr.. Peyton. We welcome
him as the provincial monster par excellence,
worthy distinguished place beside the GEN.
tenarian who saws his cord of wood every
morning before breakfast. Furthermore, we
hope our suburban contemporaries will not