n to say,--said I,--that it is _your sister_ whom that
student----

[The young fellow commonly known as John, who had been sitting on the
barrel, smoking, jumped off just then, kicked over the barrel, gave it a
push with his foot that set it rolling, and stuck his saucy-looking face
in at the window so as to cut my question off in the middle; and the
schoolmistress leaving the room a few minutes afterwards, I did not have a
chance to finish it.

The young fellow came in and sat down in a chair, putting his heels on the
top of another.

Pooty girl,--said he.

A fine young lady,--I replied.

Keeps a fust-rate school, according to accounts,--said he,--teaches all
sorts of things,--Latin and Italian and music. Folks rich once,--smashed
up. She went right ahead as smart as if she'd been born to work. That's
the kind o' girl I go for. I'd marry her, only two or three other girls
would drown themselves, if I did.

I think the above is the longest speech of this young fellow's which I
have put on record. I do not like to change his peculiar expressions, for
this is one of those cases in which the style is the man, as M. de Buffon
says. The fact is, the young fellow is a good-hearted creature enough,
only too fond of his jokes,--and if it were not for those heat-lightning
winks on one side of his face, I should not mind his fun much.]

[Some days after this, when the company were together again, I talked a
little.]

----I don't think I have a genuine hatred for anybody. I am well aware
that I differ herein from the sturdy English moralist and the stout
American tragedian. I don't deny that I hate _the sight_ of certain
people; but the qualities which make me tend to hate the man himself are
such as I am so much disposed to pity, that, except under immediate
aggravation, I feel kindly enough to the worst of them. It is such a sad
thing to be born a sneaking fellow, so much worse than to inherit a hump-
back or a couple of club-feet, that I sometimes feel as if we ought to
love the crippled souls, if I may use this expression, with a certain
tenderness which we need not waste on noble natures. One who is born with
such congenital incapacity that nothing can make a gentleman of him is
entitled, not to our wrath, but to our profoundest sympathy. But as we
cannot help hating the sight of these people, just as we do that of
physical deformities, we gradually eliminate them from our society,--we
love them, but open the window