In the wall, by the great front door, there was a round hole as big as a saucer--a British cannon-ball had made it, in the war of the Revolution.

It was breath-taking; it made history real; history had never been real to me before.
Very well, three or four years later, as already mentioned, I was king-bee and sole "subject" in the mesmeric show; it was the beginning of the second week; the performance was half over; just then the majestic Dr.Peake, with his ruffled bosom and wristbands and his gold-headed cane, entered, and a deferential citizen vacated his seat beside the Grants and made the great chief take it.

This happened while I was trying to invent something fresh in the way of a vision, in response to the professor's remark-- "Concentrate your powers.

Look--look attentively.

There--don't you see something?
Concentrate--concentrate.