ure employer--is not that the
word?--will be one of the most beautiful and distinguished ladies of
New York."

"No question of that, as money makes both beauty and distinction in
this part of the world, and it's not a dollar that will buy you.
COLONEL Silky? I don't remember the name--which of OUR editors is he?"

{Cooper is ridiculing the habit of newspaper editors of seeking
popularity by serving in the militia and thus receiving the title of
"Colonel"}

"I don't think he is an editor at all. At least, I never heard he was
employed about any publication, and, to own the truth, he does not
appear to me to be particularly qualified for such a duty, either by
native capacity, or, its substitute, education."

"Oh! that makes no great difference--half the corps is exactly in the
same predicament. I'fegs! if we waited for colonels, or editors either,
in this country, until we got such as were qualified, we should get no
news, and be altogether without politics, and the militia would soon be
in an awful state."

{I'fegs! = an obsolete, essentially meaningless exclamation, like "I
swear!", deriving from "In faith!"}

"This is very extraordinary! So you do not wait, but take them as they
come. And what state is your militia actually in?"

"Awful! It is what my boss, the judge, sometimes calls a 'statu quo.'"

{'statu quo' = in the same state as always (Latin)}

"And the newspapers--and the news--and the politics?"

"Why, they are NOT in 'statu quo'--but in a 'semper eadem'--I beg
pardon, do you understand Latin?"

"No, sir--ladies do not often study the dead languages."

"If they did they would soon bring 'em to life! 'Semper eadem' is Latin
for 'worse and worse.' The militia is drilling into a 'statu quo,' and
the press is enlightening mankind with a 'semper eadem.'"

{'Semper eadem' = the usual meaning is "ever the same"
(Latin)--presumably Cooper's talking shirt is being ironical,
suggesting that that "worse and worse" is the constant condition of the
press}

After properly thanking my neighbor for these useful explanations, we
naturally fell into discourse about matters and things in general, the
weather in America being uniformly too fine to admit of discussion.

"Pray, sir," said I, trembling lest my BOSS might be a colonel of the
editorial corps, after all--"pray, sir," said I, "is it expected in
this country that the wardrobe should entertain the political
sentiments of its boss?"

"I rather think