Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Ill-drawn, without method or sense of proportion, you have put wonderful things on to canvas, have drawn them out of yourself, notwithstanding your mechanical inefficiency.
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