The neighbours imagine me to be an adept in the "black art," an astrologer,
or a fortune-teller, but I have no pretentions whatever to any such titles;
this report has got abroad in consequence of a maid-servant having once
had the temerity to peep through the key-hole, and observed on the wall
opposite her "line of sight," some triangular characters. She had been in
the habit of poring over a dream book, and the art of casting nativities;
the Prophetic Almanac was her oracle, and its terrific title-page she
informed her fellow servant "had just those queer triangle things as was
hung on the walls of young master's study." She was "sure that he could
tell her fortune." This important intelligence, delivered with due
confidence to her fellow servant, of course spread like wildfire among the
other occupants of the "lower regions," and from them amongst the
handmaidens of sundry other dwellings. Thus has my astrological character
been established.

As all domestics are excluded my sanctum, of course I am obliged to "do
for myself," and this I prefer to being "done for," or having my room "set
to rights," according to their notions of neatness; my feelings on this
point are exactly those of Scott's _Antiquary_; I therefore "do for
myself," and consequently, it follows I must light my own fire. Than on
the morning I have mentioned, the "grand agent" of the chemist was never
more required. The air bit shrewdly, and it was "bitter cold" upon
entering the sanctum, although I had not quitted it many hours, having
watched the "old year out and the new year in," and then taken a short
nap; yet Jack Frost had been active during my absence, and cooled down the
air of the sanctum some degrees below the freezing point, at the same time
coating the window panes with his beautiful crystalline figures. The dark
walls did look most awful, seen through the dun yellow light of the fog,
which met my view upon drawing aside the cabalistically hung curtains. I