People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. In any event, I would not have let her escape me so easily. This is a plot entirely abominable, and I scorn to be part of it.
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