and almost
absorb its truthfulness. A straw is a beam, a mole-hill a mountain. His
ducks are geese, his minnows are perch, and his babes cherubs. The
fading light of the evening he merges into darkness, and the mellow rays
of the morning into the dazzling sunshine of noonday. He turns the
pyramid on its apex, and the mountain on its peak. If he has a slight
ache in the head, he is distracted in his senses, and a brief
indisposition of his friend is a sickness likely to be of long duration
and serious consequence.

Simple truth is not sufficient for the Hyberbolist to set forth his
views and feelings in conversation. He wishes to convey the idea that
_he_ has seen and experienced things in number, quality, and
circumstances exceeding anything within the range of your knowledge and
experience. He is wishful that you should "_wonder_" and utter words of
exclamation at his statements. If you do not, he may perchance repeat
himself with enlarged hyperbolisms; and should you then hear in a
matter-of-course manner, he may give you up as one stoical or phlegmatic
in your temperament.

The following lines, written by Dr. Byrom in the last century, will
serve to show the nature and growth of hyperbolism in many instances;
especially in the repetition of facts:--

"Two honest tradesmen, meeting in the Strand,
One took the other briskly by the hand;
'Hark ye,' said he, ''tis an odd story this,
About the crows!' '_I don't know what it is_,'
Replied his friend.--'No! I'm surprised at that;
Where I come from, it is the common chat.
But you shall hear: an odd affair indeed!
And, that it happen'd, they are all agreed;
Not to detain you from a thing so strange,
A gentleman that lives not far from 'Change,
This week, in short, as all the Alley knows,
Taking a puke, has thrown up _three black crows_.'

'_Impossible!_' 'Nay, but it's really true;
I have it from good hands, and so may you.'
'_From whose, I pray?_' So having nam'd the man,
Straight to enquire his curious comrade ran.
'_Sir, did you tell?_'--relating the affair.
'Yes, sir, I did; and if it's worth your care,
Ask Mr. Such-a-one, he told it me,--
But, by-the-bye, 'twas _two_ black crows, not _three_.'

Resolv'd to trace so wondrous an event,
Whip, to the third, the virtuoso went.
'_Sir_,'--and so forth. 'Why, yes; the thing is fact,
Though in regard to number not exact;
It was not _two_ black crows, but only one;