But turn over the slate, and draw on t'other side on't an old woman, with a red cloak, and a striped petticoat, and a poor pinched-up, old, squashed-in bonnet on, bendin' forrard, with a staff in her hand, a leadin' of a donkey that has a pair of yaller willow saddle-bags on, with coloured vegetables and flowers, and red beet-tops, a goin' to market.

And what have you got?
Why a pictur' worth lookin' at, too.

Why ?--_because it's natur'_.
"Now, look here, Squire; let Copley, if he was alive, but he ain't; and it's a pity too, for it would have kinder happified the old man, to see his son in the House of Lords, wouldn't it?
Squire Copley, you know, was a Boston man; and a credit to our great nation too.

P'raps Europe never has dittoed him since.
"Well, if he was above ground now, alive, and stirrin', why take him and fetch him to an upper crust London party; and sais you, 'Old Tenor,' sais you, 'paint all them silver plates, and silver dishes, and silver coverlids, and what nots; and then paint them lords with their _stars_, and them ladies' (Lord if he would paint them with their garters, folks would buy the pictur, cause that's nateral) 'them ladies with their jewels, and their sarvants with their liveries, as large as life, and twice as nateral.' "Well, he'd paint it, if you paid him for it, that's a fact; for there is no better bait to fish for us Yankees arter all, than a dollar.

That old boy never turned up his nose at a dollar, except when he thought he ought to get two.