agin, and you wake up a-thinkin' on her in the night.

Mr. Whistler must a been dretful interested himself in the Lady of the
Land of Porcelain, or he couldn't have interested other folks so.

And then there wuz another by Mr. Whistler, called "The Lady of the
Yellow Buskin."

A poem of glowin' color and life.

And right there nigh by wuz one by Mr. Chase, jest about as good. The
name on't wuz "Alice."

I believe Alice Ben Bolt looked some like her when she wuz of the same
age, you know--

"Sweet Alice, whose hair was so brown,
Who wept with delight when Mr. Ben Bolt gin her a smile;
And trembled with fear at Mr. Ben Boltses frown."

She ort to had more gumption than that; but I always liked her.

Elihu Vedder's picters rousted up deep emotions in my soul--jest about
the deepest I have got, and the most mysterious and weird.

Other artists may paint the outside of things, but he goes deeper, and
paints the emotions of the soul that are so deep that you don't hardly
know yourself that you've got them of that variety.

In lookin' through these picters of hisen illustratin' that old Persian