Mr. Roundjacket, endeavoring to catch
Verty's wandering eye; "why, my young friend, that Winchester here is
to be the celebrated locality--that the great poet of Virginia will
here arise! Is it not plain, sir?"

"Anan?" said Verty, smiling, and roused from his abstraction by the
silence.

"Ah, you are not very well accustomed to these trains of reasoning,
I perceive, sir," said Mr. Roundjacket; "but you will be able to
comprehend my meaning. I designed only to say, that this town will
probably be mentioned in many books, hereafter, as the residence of
some distinguished man. Of course, I do not express any opinion upon
that point--_I_ don't know who it will be; but I presume he will
follow the poetical calling from the vicinity of the mountains. Those
beautiful mountains will make his cheeks flush, sir, at all times. The
Shenandoah, more noble than even the Mississippi, will inspire him,
and possibly he will turn his attention to humor--possibly, sir, the
proceedings in courts of law may attract his attention--justification,
and cognovit, and certiorari. Let me read you a small portion of
a poem written upon those subjects by a very humble poet--are you
listening, Mr. Verty?"

Verty aroused himself, and smiled upon Mr. Roundjacket--a proceeding
which seemed to be eminently satisfactory to that gentleman.

With many preparatory, "hems," therefore, the poet commenced reading.

At the risk of bringing down upon our heads the anathema of
antiquaries in general, we are compelled to forbear from making any
quotations from the Roundjacket Iliad. It was not quite equal to
Homer, and inferior, in many points, to both the Aeniad and the
Dunciad;--but not on that account did the poet undervalue it. He read
with that deep appreciation which authors in all ages have brought to
bear upon their own productions.

Verty preserved a profound and respectful silence, which flattered the
poet hugely. He recited with new energy and pleasure--becoming, at
times, so enthusiastic, indeed, that a smothered growl from the
adjoining apartment bore soothing testimony to his eloquence.

Mr. Roundjacket wound up with a gigantic figure, in which the muse of
Chancery was represented as mounted upon a golden car, and dispensing
from her outstretched hands all sorts of fruits, and flowers, and
blessings on humanity;--and having thus brought his noble poem to a
noble termination, the poet, modestly smiling, and ready for applause,
rolled up his