ories
to tell me, and that he rather guessed he knew as much of the English,
and a leetle, jist a leetle, grain more, p'raps, than they knew of the
Yankees.

"They are considerable large print are the Bull family," said he; "you
can read them by moonlight. Indeed, their faces ain't onlike the moon
in a gineral way; only one has got a man in it, and the other hain't
always. It tante a bright face; you can look into it without winkin'.
It's a cloudy one here too, especially in November; and most all the
time makes you rather sad and solemncoly. Yes, John is a moony man,
that's a fact, and at the full a little queer sometimes.

"England is a stupid country compared to our'n. _There it no variety
where there it no natur_. You have class variety here, but no
individiality. They are insipid, and call it perlite. The men dress
alike, talk alike, and look as much alike as Providence will let 'em.
The club-houses and the tailors have done a good deal towards this, and
so has whiggism and dissent; for they have destroyed distinctions.

"But this is too deep for me. Ask Minister, he will tell you the cause;
I only tell you the fact.

"Dinin' out here, is both heavy work, and light feedin'. It's monstrous
stupid. One dinner like one rainy day (it's rained ever since I
been here a'most), is like another; one drawin'-room like another
drawin'-room; one peer's entertainment, in a general way, is
like another peer's. The same powdered, liveried, lazy, idle,
good-for-nothin', do-little, stand-in-the-way-of-each-other,
useless sarvants. Same picturs, same plate, same fixin's, same
don't-know-what-to-do-with-your-self-kinder-o'-lookin'-master. Great
folks are like great folks, marchants like marchants, and so on. It's a
pictur, it looks like life, but' it tante. The animal is tamed here; he
is fatter than the wild one, but he hante the spirit.

"You have seen-Old Clay in a pastur, a racin' about, free from harness,
head and tail up, snortin', cavortin', attitudinisin' of himself. Mane
flowin' in the wind, eye-ball startin' out, nostrils inside out a'most,
ears pricked up. _A nateral hoss_; put him in a waggon, with a rael spic
and span harness, all covered over with brass buckles and brass knobs,
and ribbons in his bridle, rael jam. Curb him up, talk Yankee to him,
and get his ginger up. Well, he looks well; but he is '_a broke hoss_.'
He reminds you of Sam Slick; cause when you see a hoss, you think of his
master: but he don't remi