"In this head," said the Professor, straddling his malleable fingers across the young man's bumpy brow--"In this head we find Ideality large--abnormally large, in fact; thurby indicating--taken in conjunction with a like development of the perceptive qualities--language following, as well, in the prominent eye--thurby indicating, I say, our subject as especially endowed with a love for the beautiful--the sublime--the elevating--the refined and delicate--the lofty and superb--in nature, and in all the sublimated attributes of the human heart and beatific soul. In fact, we find this young man possessed of such natural gifts as would befit him for the exalted career of the sculptor, the actor, the artist, or the poet--any ideal calling; in fact, any calling but a practical, matter-of-fact vocation; though in poetry he would seem to best succeed." "Well," said my friend seriously, "he's FEELING for the boy!" Then laughingly: "Hedrick HAS written some rhymes for the county papers, and Sweeney once introduced him, at an Old Settlers' Meeting, as 'The Best Poet in Center Township,' and never cracked a smile! Always after each other that way, but the best friends in the world. SWEENEY'S strong suit is elocution. He has a native ability that way by no means ordinary, but even that gift he abuses and distorts simply to produce grotesque, and oftentimes, ridiculous effects. For instance, nothing more delights him than to 'loathfully' consent to answer a request, at The Mite Society, some evening, for 'an appropriate selection,' and then, with an elaborate introduction of the same, and an exalted tribute to the refined genius of the author, proceed with a most gruesome rendition of 'Alonzo The Brave and The Fair Imogene,' in a way to coagulate the blood and curl the hair of his fair listeners with abject terror. Pale as a corpse, you know, and with that cadaverous face, lit with those malignant-looking eyes, his slender figure, and his long thin legs and arms and hands, and his whole diabolical talent and adroitness brought into play-- why, I want to say to you, it's enough to scare 'em to death! Never a smile from him, though, till he and Hedrick are safe out into the night again-- then, of course, they hug each other and howl over it like Modocs! But pardon; I'm interrupting the lecture. Listen." "A lack of continuity, however," continued the Professor, "and an undue love of approbation, would, measurably, at least, tend to retard the young man's progress toward the consummation of any loftier ambition, I fear; yet as we have intimated, if the subject were appropriately educated to the need's demand, he could doubtless produce a high order of both prose and poetry--especially the latter--though he could very illy bear being laughed at for his pains." "He's dead wrong there," said my friend; "Hedrick enjoys being laughed at; he's used to it--gets fat on it!"