JONATHAN SLICK. * * * * * LETTER XXVIII. JONATHAN SLICK IN NEW YORK. Jonathan goes to see Mr. Macready--Description of the Theatre--Introduces himself to a Handsome Girl at the Theatre--Enters into a Flirtation--Promises to Visit her--Jonathan takes a Novel Method of providing himself with a Fashionable Dress--Quarrels with Captain Doolittle--Is reconciled, and starts off to make a Morning Call on the Handsome Girl. DEAR PAR: Here I am agin, safe and sound, large as life, and chipper as a grasshopper on a high rock in a sunshiny day. I tell you what, a few ginuine huskings to hum, with purty gals to put the music in a feller's elbows, as he strips the husks off from the corn, is jest the sort of occasions to put the grit into a feller from top to toe--jest top them off with an apple cut or so, sich as we had to our house when you and marm cut about amongst the gals and the young chaps, like two spring colts jest let out to grass; and taper the hull off with a week sich as I had a ropin onions with Judy White, with her pesky red pouters a one side, and two or three prim Weathersfield gals on t'other a turning their good natured eyes at a feller every string, till his heart is a cuttin pigeon wings agin his ribs to the music of their larf--jest let a chap get used to that sort o'pastur, and consarn me, if it don't do more towards making a ginuine man of him than a hull etarnity of York life, where every other man and gal you meet have got their hearts so tarnally used up, that they have to lean agin their back bones to rest more than half the time, and likely as not get sound to sleep at that. The old sloop jest hit the nail on the head, and hauled into Peck Slip the night arter Mr. Macready, a smashin actor from the old country, got to the Park Theatre, where he's been a acting out things that'd make your hair stand right up an eend eenajest to see it. I tell you what, he's a hull team and a horse to let--no mistake in that. Did you ever see a race horse up on eend for a run, with his neck curled over like an ox bow, and his skin shinen like a junk bottle? Did you ever look into the critter's eyes, and see the fire dancing through the black?--arnimal lightning, every darned spark on it. If you've seen that are, then you've got some idee of the allfired smashin critter that my arm was eenamost girting afore I took a squint at her face.