owl, there a man skinnin' a rabbit, there a woman with her
petticoat up, a puttin' of a patch in it. Here two boys a fishin', and
there a little gall a playin' with a dog, that's a racin' and a yelpin',
and a barkin' like mad.'

"'Well, when he's done,' sais you, 'which pictur do you reckon is the
best now, Squire Copely? speak candid for I want to know, and I ask you
now as a countryman.'

"'Well' he'll jist up and tell you, 'Mr. Poker,' sais he, 'your
fashionable party is the devil, that's a fact. Man made the town, but
God made the country. Your company is as formal, and as stiff, and as
oninterestin' as a row of poplars; but your gipsy scene is beautiful,
because it's nateral. It was me painted old Chatham's death in the House
of Lords; folks praised it a good deal; but it was no great shakes,
_there was no natur' in it_. The scene was real, the likenesses was
good, and there was spirit in it, but their damned uniform toggery,
spiled the whole thing--it was artificial, and wanted life and natur.
Now, suppose, such a thing in Congress, or suppose some feller skiverd
the speaker with a bowie knife as happened to Arkansaw, if I was to
paint it, it would be beautiful. Our free and enlightened people is so
different, so characteristic and peculiar, it would give a great field
to a painter. To sketch the different style of man of each state, so
that any citizen would sing right out; Heavens and airth if that don't
beat all! Why, as I am a livin' sinner that's the Hoosier of Indiana, or
the Sucker of Illinois, or the Puke of Missouri, or the Bucky of
Ohio, or the Red Horse of Kentucky, or the Mudhead of Tennesee, or the
Wolverine of Michigan or the Eel of New England, or the Corn Cracker of
Virginia! That's the thing that gives inspiration. That's the glass of
talabogus that raises your spirits. There is much of elegance, and more
of comfort in England. It is a great and a good country, Mr. Poker, but
there is no natur in it.'

"It is as true as gospel," said Mr. Slick, "I'm tellin' you no lie. It's
a fact. If you expect to paint them English, as you have the Blue-Noses
and us, you'll pull your line up without a fish, oftener than you are
a-thinkin' on; that's the reason all our folks have failed. 'Rush's book
is jist molasses and water, not quite so sweet as 'lasses, and not quite
so good as water; but a spilin' of both. And why? His pictur was of
polished life, where there is no natur. Washington Irving's book is like