Unwrapping the package, I discovered, to my intense disgust, a copy of the Reversible Landscape!  My first thought was that some of the members, for a joke, had taken down one of the paintings from our meeting-room and had sent it to me; but, on carefully examining the canvas and frame, I was quite certain that this picture had never been nailed to a wall.  It was evidently a new and fresh copy of the painting of which I had been assured no more would be produced.  I must admit that I had felt a certain pride in decorating our hall with the style of picture that could not be seen elsewhere; and, moreover, I greatly dislike to be overreached in business matters, and my wrath against the manufacturer of high art entirely overpowered and dissipated any little resentment I might have felt against my waggish fellow-members who had sent me the painting.

Early the next morning I went direct to the art-factory, and was just about entering when my attention was attracted by a prominent picture in the window.  I stepped back to look at it.  It was our reversible landscape, mounted upon an easel, and labelled “A Morning Scene.”  While I examined it to assure myself that it was really the landscape with which I was so familiar, it was turned upside down by some concealed machinery, and appeared labelled, “An Evening Scene.”  At the foot of the easel I now noticed a placard inscribed:  “The Reversible Landscape:  A New Idea in Art.”

I stood for a moment astounded.  The rascally picture-monger had not only made another of these pictures, but he was prepared to furnish them in any number.  Rushing into the gallery, I demanded to see the proprietor.

“Look here!” said I, “what docs this mean?  You told me that there were to be no more of those pictures painted; that I was to possess a unique lot.”

“That’s not the same picture, sir,” he exclaimed.  “I am surprised that you should think so.  Step outside with me, sir, and I’ll prove it to you.  There, sir!” said he, as we stood before the painting, which was now Morning side up, “you see that star?  In the pictures we sold you the morning star was Venus; in this one it is Jupiter.  This is not the same picture.  Do you imagine that we would deceive a customer?  That, sir, is a thing we never do!”

DUSKY PHILOSOPHY.

In two expositions.

FIRST EXPOSITION:  A STORY OF SEVEN DEVILS.

The negro church which stood in the pine-woods near the little village of Oxford Cross Roads, in one of the lower counties of Virginia, was presided over by an elderly individual, known to the community in general as Uncle Pete; but on Sundays the members of his congregation addressed him as Brudder Pete.  He was an earnest and energetic man, and, although he could neither read nor write, he had for many years expounded the Scriptures to the satisfaction of his hearers.  His memory was good, and those portions of the Bible, which from time to time he had heard read, were used by him, and frequently with powerful effect, in his sermons.  His interpretations of the Scriptures were generally entirely original, and were made to suit the needs, or what he supposed to be the needs, of his congregation.