the Cardiff discovery, appearing in your paper of Saturday last,
and the Journal of the same day.

It seems a committee of the editors and owners of the Journal,
named respectively Tom, Dick and Harry, of widely various
characteristics, visited the Giant last week, and treat the
subject on their return by articles published in that highly
original sheet, according to their respective peculiarities. Tom,
who is evidently admired in his family circle as a man of great
humor, has so cultivated that faculty that it presents an abnormal
development, and if petrification ever does overtake him, posterity
may hope it will not operate upon his intellectual faculties. Dick,
on the other hand, is gloomily satirical, and by the aid of that
useful faculty utterly annihilates his opponents without saying
anything. But last, Harry takes up the theme and treats it in a
spirit becoming the gravity of the subject.

He thinks that the artist formed the figure according to a pattern,
having a cold "corpse" conveniently by as a model, from which he
could take "careful measurement," and proceeded to make this
figure, not attempting, he says, to make this corpse look like a
"living figure," which certainly was modest in the artist. He also
says that he did not attempt to "supply the missing hair." The
question very naturally arises here, "Why was the hair missing,
and how long had the corpse been a corpse to lose its hair? and
was it a pleasant occupation to do business with such a corpse?"
This omission (i.e. to put on hair), Harry says, arose from
"inexperience."

Now, experience is certainly an excellent thing, and when properly