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Perhaps was never read of. You shall hear.
siesta after dinner, It is refreshing, and prepares the mind And body too, for evening business. Angelica in vain look'd far and wide For her Ippolito: the gentle youth No doubt was fast asleep. She sat her down And tried her lute-'twas out of tune, and harsh; Her voice-'twas weak and husky. Then she look'd Out on the sylvan scene--all nature seem'd Sunk in siesta; not a single bird Was seen or heard; the very
That hung above; who can like any thing
Nor would I for ten thousand worlds presume it.
'Tis not thought
THE SET OF CHINA.
BY MISS LESLIE.
How thrive the beauties of the graphic art?--Peter Pindar.
“ MR. GUMMAGE," said Mrs. Atmore, as she entered a certain drawing school, at that time the most fashionable in Philadelphia, “I have brought you a new pupil, my daughter, Miss Marianne Atmore. Have you a vacancy.”
“Why, I can't say that I have,” replied Mr. Gummage;
"I never have vacancies.' “ I am very sorry to hear it,” said Mrs. Atmore; and Miss Marianne, a tall handsome girl of fifteen, looked disappointed.
“But perhaps I could strain a point, and find a place for her," resumed Mr. Gummage, who knew very well that he never had the smallest idea of limiting the number of his pupils, and that if twenty more were to apply, he would take them every one, however full his school might be.
“ Do, pray, Mr. Gummage,” said Mrs. Atmore; “ do try and make an exertion to admit my daughter; I shall regard it as a particular favour."
6 Well, I believe she may come," replied Gummage: “ I suppose I can take her. Has she any turn for drawing?”
6 I don't know," answered Mrs. Atmore, 6 she has never tried.”
6 So much the better," said Gummage; “I like girls
that have never tried; they are much more manageable than those that have been scratching and daubing at home all their lives."
Mr. Gummage was no gentleman, either in appearance or manner. But he passed for a genius among those who knew nothing of that ill-understood race. He had a hooked nose that turned to the right, and a crooked mouth that turned to the left-his face being very much out of drawing—and he had two round eyes that in colour and expression resembled two hazel-nuts. His lips were “pea-green and blue,” from the habit of putting the brushes into his mouth when they were overcharged with colour. He took snuff illimitably, and generally carried half a dozen handkerchiefs, some of which, however, were to wrap his dinner in, as he conveyed it from market in his capacious pockets; others, as he said, were “ to wipe the girl's saucers.”
His usual costume was an old dusty brown coat, corduroy pantaloons, and a waistcoat that had once been red, boots that had once been black, and a low crowned rusty hat—which was never off his head, even in the presence of the ladies and a bandanna cravat. The vulgarity of his habits, and rudeness of his deportment all passed off under the title of eccentricity. At the period when he flourished—it was long before the time of Sully-the beau ideal of an artist, at least among the multitude, was an ugly, ill-mannered, dirty fellow, that painted an inch thick in divers gaudy colours, equally irreconcilable to nature and art. And the chief attractions of a drawing master—for Mr. Gummage was nothing more-lay in doing almost every thing himself, and producing for his pupils, in their first quarter, pictures (so called) that were pronounced fit to frame.”
“Well, madam,” said Mr. Gummage, “what do you