care of her sick neighbour. Johnny is expected with the doctor by
eleven; but the clock strikes eleven, and twelve, and one, without the
appearance either of Johnny or the doctor. Betty's restless fears become
insupportable; and she now leaves her friend to look for her idiot son.
She goes to the doctor's house, but hears nothing of Johnny. About five
o'clock, however, she finds him sitting quietly upon his feeding poney.
As they go home they meet old Susan, whose apprehensions have cured her,
and brought her out to seek them; and they all return merrily together.

Upon this subject the author has written nearly five hundred lines. With
what spirit the story is told, our extract will evince.

[Quotes lines (322-401) of _The Idiot Boy_.]

No tale less deserved the labour that appears to have been bestowed upon
this. It resembles a Flemish picture in the worthlessness of its design
and the excellence of its execution. From Flemish artists we are
satisfied with such pieces: who would not have lamented, if Corregio or
Rafaelle had wasted their talents in painting Dutch boors or the humours
of a Flemish wake?

The other ballads of this kind are as bald in story, and are not so
highly embellished in narration. With that which is entitled the Thorn,
we were altogether displeased. The advertisement says, it is not told in
the person of the author, but in that of some loquacious narrator. The
author should have recollected that he who personates tiresome
loquacity, becomes tiresome himself. The story of a man who suffers the
perpetual pain of cold, because an old woman prayed that he might never
be warm, is perhaps a good story for a ballad, because it is a
well-known tale: but is the author certain that it is '_well