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Saturday was a bad day, as to weather; nevertheless several hundred visited the Giant.

Sunday was a crusher. The people began to go early, and kept going all day long. From eleven to three o’clock it was a dense mass of people on the Newell farm. Around the house and barns acres were covered with teams and wagons, and the road, for a long distance in either direction, was lined with them. It seemed as if such another jam never went to a show before, and it was with great difficulty that the line could be kept so that all could have a fair sight. All the proprietors were on hand, and did all they could to accommodate the crowd. At three P.M. twenty-three hundred tickets had been sold, Mr. Higgins bringing in the $1,150 received therefor, for safety. Not less than three hundred tickets were sold after three o’clock, so the total number of visitors for the day would be 2,600.

The Tully story of fraud is exploded. The mysterious man said to have visited that village, etc., turns out to be no other than a cousin of Mr. Newell’s, a resident of Binghamton, and a tobacconist. He was on the grounds all day yesterday, and frankly told all there was of his visit at the time alleged, to the satisfaction of every one.

LETTER FROM A PETRIFACTIONIST.

EDITOR STANDARD:–Permit me to notice a few of the arguments upon the Cardiff discovery, appearing in your paper of Saturday last, and the Journal of the same day.

It seems a committee of the editors and owners of the Journal, named respectively Tom, Dick and Harry, of widely various characteristics, visited the Giant last week, and treat the subject on their return by articles published in that highly original sheet, according to their respective peculiarities. Tom, who is evidently admired in his family circle as a man of great humor, has so cultivated that faculty that it presents an abnormal development, and if petrification ever does overtake him, posterity may hope it will not operate upon his intellectual faculties. Dick, on the other hand, is gloomily satirical, and by the aid of that useful faculty utterly annihilates his opponents without saying anything. But last, Harry takes up the theme and treats it in a spirit becoming the gravity of the subject.

He thinks that the artist formed the figure according to a pattern, having a cold “corpse” conveniently by as a model, from which he could take “careful measurement,” and proceeded to make this figure, not attempting, he says, to make this corpse look like a “living figure,” which certainly was modest in the artist. He also says that he did not attempt to “supply the missing hair.” The question very naturally arises here, “Why was the hair missing, and how long had the corpse been a corpse to lose its hair? and was it a pleasant occupation to do business with such a corpse?” This omission (i.e. to put on hair), Harry says, arose from “inexperience.”

Now, experience is certainly an excellent thing, and when properly acquired and wisely used is undoubtedly of considerable benefit to mankind. But that it was necessary, in order to enable an artist to know that hair grows on the human head, we had not before supposed. Into such absurdities, oh Harry, does he run who abandons his familiar scissors for the unaccustomed pen.

I will briefly refer to the letter of Rev. S.R. Calthrop in favor of the statue theory. While it shows the scholarship of its author, his thorough appreciation of artistic influences, and the wonderful imitation of nature produced by the one who formed this figure, it does not seem to me to go very far towards proving his position. Starting off with the idea that many reasons may be given against the theory of petrification, he commences with number one, and then he stops; it is true he gives one other reason, but neglects to number it; and the two reasons are–