images, that you may cut out of an oak tree,--not beautiful marble
statues, on porphyry pedestals, twenty feet high."

PISISTRATUS.--"Miss Austen; Mrs. Gore, in her masterpiece of 'Mrs.
Armytage;' Mrs. Marsh, too; and then (for Scottish manners) Miss
Ferrier!"

MR. CAXTON (growing cross).--"Oh, if you cannot treat on bucolics but
what you must hear some Virgil or other cry 'Stop thief,' you deserve to
be tossed by one of your own 'short-horns.'" (Still more
contemptuously)--"I am sure I don't know why we spend so much money on
sending our sons to school to learn Latin, when that Anachronism of
yours, Mrs. Caxton, can't even construe a line and a half of Phaedrus,--
Phaedrus, Mrs. Caxton, a book which is in Latin what Goody Two-Shoes is
in the vernacular!"

MRS. CAXTON (alarmed and indignant).--"Fie! Austin I I am sure you can
construe Phaedrus, dear!"

Pisistratus prudently preserves silence.

MR. CAXTON.--"I'll try him--

"'Sua cuique quum sit animi cogitatio
Colurque proprius.'

"What does that mean?"

PISISTRATITS (smiling)--"That every man has some colouring matter within
him, to give his own tinge to--"