some cases of most curiously dissected insects,
and also some skeletons of fish, showing, each
in its proper place, the multitude of small
bones that bother the hasty epicure. One of
the specimens is a trout caught at Drayton
Manor. It weighed twenty-two pounds, and
was sent by Sir Robert Peel, as a curiosity, to
the College, when the council, in compliment
to the statesman who dealt so much more
liberally with science than many other
ministers had done, spent a round sum in
putting up the skeleton in the present
style.

Besides remarkable instances of normal
structure, many curious freaks of nature are
there also; some of them being in a small
additional room on the left of the hall. One
of these, the child with two skulls, may be
mentioned. It is the skeleton of a boy born
in Bengal, about seventy years ago. Here is
the description from the catalogue:—"The
child was healthy and was more than four
years old at the time of its death, which was
occasioned by the bite of a poisonous snake.
When born, the body of the child was
naturally formed, but the head appeared double,
there being, besides the proper head of the
child, another of the same size, and to
appearance almost equally perfect, attached to
its upper part. This upper head was upside
down, the two being united together by a
firm adhesion between their crowns, but without
any indentation at their union, there being
a smooth continued surface from one to the
other. The face of the upper head was not
over that of the lower, but had an oblique
position, the centre of it being immediately
above the right eye. When the child was
six months old, both of the heads were
covered with black hair, in nearly the same
quantity. At this period the skulls seemed
to have been completely ossified, except a
small space on the top. The eyelids of
the superior head were never completely shut,
but remained a little open, even when the
child was asleep, and the eyeballs moved at
random. When the child was roused, the
eyes of both heads moved at the same time;
but those of the superior head did not appear
to be directed to the same object, but
wandered in different directions. The tears
flowed from the eyes of the superior head
almost constantly, but never from the eyes of
the other except when crying. The superior
head seemed to sympathise with the child in
most of its natural actions. When the child
cried, the features of this head were affected
in a similar manner, and the tears flowed
plentifully. When it sucked the mother, from
the mouth of the superior head the saliva
flowed more copiously than at any other time,
for it always flowed a little from it. When
the child smiled, the features of the superior
head sympathised in that action. When the
skin of the superior head was pinched, the
child seemed to feel little or no pain, at least
not in the same proportion as was felt from a
similar violence being committed on its own
head or body." A fuller account of this
remarkable case of monstrosity may be found in
the "Philosophical Transactions," by those
who like to seek it.

Many other things equally strange might
be named, were it needful, for the smaller
museum is half-full of curious things. There
are, for instance, illustrations of two of the
most marvellous cures, or rather escapes, on
record:—such as the bones of the front of the
chest of a man who was literally impaled by
a gig shaft, but recovered; a second, are
drawings to illustrate the injuries of another
man, a sailor, who was pinned to the deck by
an iron spike at the end of a mast, weighing
six hundred pounds, but who yet recovered,
and is believed to be yet alive, and well, in
Wales. The crowning curiosities, however,
are not named in the catalogue, though they
stand in two small bottles, on a mahogany
pedestal, in the centre of this smaller room.
To a man with a soul for identicals, they must
offer great attraction, for they are two
portions of the small intestine of the Emperor
Napoleon, showing the presence of the
cancerous disease that killed him. These post-
mortem relics were removed by a French
surgeon who assisted in opening the body of
the deceased conqueror, and were given by
him to Barry O'Meara, who presented them
to Sir Astley Cooper. They offer scientific
and historical evidence of the cause of the
great man's death. Some time ago a card
leant against the bottles, explaining the nature
of their contents, but more than once a French
visitor to the place became excited, and even
violent, on seeing the relics of their venerated
chief. One day a perfect scene occurred:—
"Perfide Albion! " shrieked a wild Gaul,
whose enthusiasm seemed as though it had
been fed upon Cognac. "Perfide Albion!"
again and more loudly rang through the
usually quiet hall. "Not sufficient to have
your Vaterloo Bridge, your Vaterloo Place,
your Vaterloo boots, but you put violent
hands on de grand Emperor himself.
Perfide! perfide! perfide! " he yelled again, and
had he not been restrained, would have run a
Gallic muck among the bones and bottles
that would have been recollected for many a
day. From that time the pathological record
of Napoleon's fatal malady has been
unnumbered, and—to the million—
unrecognisable.

A popular enquiry of the place is, "Where's
Mrs. Van Butchell?  Which is Mrs. Van
Butchell?" The lady in question was the
first wife of Martin Van Butchell, a
celebrated quack doctor, who, eighty years ago,
used to ride in Hyde Park a pony painted
blue, green, and red, as an advertisement of
himself and his pretended cures. When the
good lady died, her husband employed some
eminent medical men of the day to try a mode
of preserving her remains, and they were
accordingly embalmed with turpentine and