"
Every separate week of their lives they buy of the boys,
instead of subscribing; they think they may not want the
next number, but they always do. Not one of them has
read the "Nation" for five years, for they like to keep
good-natured. In fact, they do not take much stock in
the general organs of opinion, and the standard books you
find about are scandalously few. The Bible, Shakespeare,
John Milton; Polly has Dante; Julia has "Barclay's
Apology," with ever so many marks in it; one George has
"Owen Felltham," and the other is strong on Marcus
Aurelius. Well, no matter about these separate things;
the uniform books besides those I named, in different
editions but in every house, are the "Arabian Nights" and
"Robinson Crusoe." Hackmatack has the priceless first
edition. Haliburton has Grandville's (the English
Grandville). Ingham has a proof copy of the Stothard.
Carter has a good copy of the Cruikshank.
If you ask me which of these four I should like best,
I should say as the Laureate did when they gave him his
choice of two kinds of cake, "Both's as good as one."
Well, "Robinson Crusoe" being their lay gospel and
creed, not to say epistle and psalter, it was not queer
that one night, when the election had gone awfully, and
the men were as blue as that little porcelain Osiris of
mine yonder, who is so blue that he cannot stand on
his feet--it was not queer, I say, that they turned
instinctively to "Robinson Crusoe" for relief.
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