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foggy drudglings doze While Rob Gilpin toasts thy witches, While the Ghost waylays thy breeches, Ingoldsby? Such tales as those Exorcised our peevish woes When Betsinda held the Rose.
Realism, thou specious pose! Haply it is good we met thee; But, passed by, we'll scarce regret thee; For we love the light that glows Where Queen Fancy's pageant goes, And Betsinda holds the Rose.
Shall we dare it? Then let's close Doors to-night on things statistic, Seek the hearth in circle mystic, Till the conjured fire-light shows Where Youth's bubbling Fountain flows, And Betsinda holds the Rose.
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION
We two--the author and his illustrator--did not know what we had done until the newspapers told us. But the press has explained it in the following poised and consistent criticism:
"Too many suggestions of profanity." --Congregationalist, Boston, 8 Dec. '92.
"It ought to be the delight of the nursery." --National Tribune, Washington, 22 Dec. '92.
"Grotesque and horrible." --Zion's Herald, Boston, 21 Dec. '92.
"Some excellent moral lessons." --Citizen, Brooklyn, 27 Nov. '92.
"If it has any lesson to teach, we have been unable to find it." --Independent, New York, 10 Nov. '92.
"The story is a familiar one." --Detroit Free Press, 28 Nov. '92.
"Refreshingly novel." --Cincinnati Commercial Gazette, 17 Dec. '92.
"It is a burlesque." --Atlantic Monthly, Dec. '92.
"All those who love lessons drawn from life will enjoy this book." --Christian Advocate, Cincinnati, 2 Nov. '92.
"The style of this production is difficult to define." --Court Journal, London, 26 Nov. '92.
"One wonders why writer and artist should put so much labor on a production which seems to have so little reason for existence." --Herald and Presbyterian, Cincinnati.
Now the public knows exactly what sort of book this is, and we cannot be