He is labeling his trophies, now.

I picked up one a while ago, and found it marked "Fragment of a Russian General." I carried it out to get a better light upon it--it was nothing but a couple of teeth and part of the jaw-bone of a horse.

I said with some asperity: "Fragment of a Russian General! This is absurd.

Are you never going to learn any sense ?" He only said: "Go slow--the old woman won't know any different." [His aunt.] This person gathers mementoes with a perfect recklessness, now-a-days; mixes them all up together, and then serenely labels them without any regard to truth, propriety, or even plausibility.

I have found him breaking a stone in two, and labeling half of it "Chunk busted from the pulpit of Demosthenes," and the other half "Darnick from the Tomb of Abelard and Heloise." I have known him to gather up a handful of pebbles by the roadside, and bring them on board ship and label them as coming from twenty celebrated localities five hundred miles apart.