pid
novels,--sentimental in sentiment, flaccid in fiction, and entirely
intolerable from beginning to end. The first forty pages put us to
sleep. We advise all druggists to keep the book for sale,--as an
_anodyne_.

"The binding is good, and that is all the praise we can give so
contemptible an abortion. A reading public that tolerates a novel like
this, must be made up of very good-natured persons--assinine in
temperament, and mentally obtuse.

"This 'work,' we presume, is written by that much-abused and prolific
myth--'a young gentleman of this city,' distinguished, _of course_. We
believe that he writes all of Printem & Sellem's books. At all events,
those enterprising gentlemen always have 'a startling novel' in
press, from his immortal pen. What a long string of sins these
gentlemen have to answer for! What a commotion there would be among
the shelves of their book-store, if dead authors could come back and
reclaim stolen property! If the shade of _Lindley Murray_ could stalk
among them!

"For our part, we had rather see the Hudson River Railroad's list of
'dead and wounded,' than Printem & Sellem's list of 'Popular
Publications!' But it is consoling to know that books like 'Daisy's
Necklace,' in spite of 'purchased puffery,' find their level at last
as linings for portmanteaus and third-rate trunks. We shall make
cigar-lighters of our copy, and thank the stars that we were not born
a book-making genius!"

Not a line quoted to prove the justice of the unstrained censure! I could
not account for the malignant personality of this _critique_, until Barry
informed me that my publishers never advertised their books in the columns
of the "Frogpond Gazette." This, of course, explained it. I only wish I had
the stubborn editor of the "Frogpond" at arm's length, I would try the
consistency of his ears.

I was somewhat astonished, the next day, to find how ingeniously Messrs.
Printem & Sellem made the adverse criticism subservient to their interests.

My lucubration was out.

The "Post" said so; the "Morning Rabid" said it; the "Evening
Looking-Glass" said it; and a host of small fry echoed the important fact.
I unfolded "The Rabid," and beheld the following advertisement:

"PUBLISHED THIS DAY,
_A Novel of Unprecedented Power, entitled_,

DAISY'S NECKLACE,
AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

THE 'FROGPOND GAZET