when we once consider for a moment the different objects the authors claim our attention in behalf of—Should even a potatoe enter the lists with a poney, my blood rises—my choler is excited.
Talk of propagation! Would the blockheads have us hesitate between a horse chesnut, and a chesnut horse! Common sense forbids it (particularly as it is to be the fashionable colour in harness this time five years); and as for preservation—Which should humanity first extend her arm to save? A cabbage or a cockney—A captain or a cauliflower? For these reasons I lament seeing, monthly, the names of several respectable friends of mine, affixed to a work of such subordinate consideration. Had they spent as much time in riding upon turnips, as they have in writing upon them, they might ere now have belonged to the first hunts in the country, and most fashionable clubs in town. But I fear the silk purse and the sow s ear are but too applicable to most of them.
