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O no! no bind!—I do bind nothing,—loose all: dat is my plan; de free plan of nature: so I do teach my pupils.

A most agreeable lesson, truly: and you will find some ladies very willing to become your pupils; if, indeed, they are not already more qualified to teach than to learn.

Dear brother, how severe you are! But a truce to philosophy! It is in matters of taste that we have been craving Mr. Smitchenstault's instruction, though he has not yet told us whether the dew-drops—emblems of sensibility—should be hung upon this rose, or the buds which have been torn from her. (Pointing to the flowers has been painting.)

Is it the flower I gave you this morning?

O dear, no! It is the one Sir Robert Freemantle wore in his button-hole: we have not one in the whole garden of the same species. Come, do you tell us where these same dew-drops should be disposed of on this drawing?

Dip it into the well, if you please, and it will have drops enough.