"The Boston Bantam (_alias_ Bright Chanticleer) is a young bird,
though too old to be caught with chaff. He comes of a thorough game
breed, and has a clear though modest crow. He pulls down the scale
at ten stone and a half and add a pound or two. His previous
performances in the pedestrian line have not been numerous. He once
achieved a neat little match against time in two left boots at
Philadelphia; but this must be considered as a pedestrian
eccentricity, and cannot be accepted by the rigid chronicler as high
art. The old mower with the scythe and hour-glass has not yet laid
his mauley heavily on the Bantam's frontispiece, but he has had a
grip at the Bantam's top feathers, and in plucking out a handful was
very near making him like the great Napoleon Bonaparte (with the
exception of the victualling department), when the ancient one found
himself too much occupied to carry out the idea, and gave it up. The
Man of Ross (_alias_ old Alick Pope, _alias_
Allourpraises-whyshouldlords, etc.) is a thought and a half too
fleshy, and, if he accidentally sat down upon his baby, would do it
to the tune of fourteen stone. This popular codger is of the
rubicund and jovial sort, and has long been known as a piscatorial
pedestrian on the banks of the Wye. But Izaak Walton hadn't
pace,--look at his book and you'll find it slow,--and when that
article comes in question, the fishing-rod may prove to some of his
disciples a rod in pickle. Howbeit, the Man of Ross is a lively
ambler, and has a smart stride of his own.