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"Did it ever occur to you how many subjects for the highest order of
poetry lie unnoticed all about us? Take that chandelier, for example,
the prismatic drops of which are dull in the shade, but sparkle with
all the colors of the rainbow in the gaslight. Might not those hidden
splendors be compared to that genius whose brilliancy is alone evoked by
Beauty's radiant smile?"
Marcus Wilkeson squirmed, and Matthew Maltboy felt uneasy, while their
friend was delivering this elaborate idea, and felt easier when he
reached the end in safety. Mr. Overtop himself shared in the sensation
of relief.
"Beautiful! beautiful!" cried Mrs. Slapman, in a species of rapture. "I
must repeat that delicious thought to Chickson. But not now." And she
looked inquiringly at Overtop, as if in expectation that he would utter
another new TRUTH immediately. That gentleman not happening to have one
on his tongue's end, Mrs. Slapman was kind enough to give him time for
reflection.

CHAPTER X.
INFIRMITIES OF GENIUS.
"Allow me to point out some of my friends, Mr. Overtop.


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