"A young genius in Dodgetown, who promises one day to render the name of
an American illustrious. He has painted a new sign for the store, that in
its way is quite equal to the marriage of Cana. 'I have stood with tears
over the despair of a Niobe,'" continuing to read, "'and witnessed the
contortions of the snakes in the Laocoon with a convulsive eagerness to
clutch them, that has made me fancy I could hear them hiss." That
sentence, I think, will be likely to be noticed even in the
New-Old-New-Yorker, one of the very best reviews of our days, gentlemen."

"Take a little more punch, Mr. Dodge," put in the attentive captain; "this
grows affecting, and needs alleviation, as Saunders would say. Mr. Monday,
you will get a bad name for being too sober, if you never empty your
glass. Proceed, in the name of Heaven! Mr. Dodge."

"'In the evening I went to the Grand Opery.'--"

"Ou, done?"

"Au grand Hoppery, mademoiselle," replied John Effingham.

"--'To the _Grand Opery_,'" resumed Mr. Dodge, with emphasis, his eyes
beginning to glisten by this time, for he had often applied to the punch
for inspiration, "'where I listened to music that is altogether inferior
to that which we enjoy in America, especially at the general trainings,
and on the Sabbath. The want of science was conspicuous; and if _this_ be
music, then do I know nothing about it!'"

"A judicious remark!"'exclaimed the captain.--"Mr. Dodge has great merit
as a writer, for he loses no occasion to illustrate his opinions by the
most unanswerable facts. He has acquired a taste for Zip Coon and Long