and shoulders,' replied Chapin,
'that I re-eely couldn't help showing 'em off on the Orphan: besides,
they're more in demand--the low neck and short sleeves--than the
high-bodied style, which has no buyers. But there is a work I'm engaged
on now that would just soot your uncle. Mr. Caper, come this way.'

Caper saw what he supposed was a safe to keep meat cool in, and
approached. Chapin threw back the doors of it like a showman about to
disclose the What Is It? and Caper saw a dropsical-looking Cupid with a
very short shirt on, and a pair of winged shoes on his feet. The figure
was starting forward as if to catch his equilibrium, which he had that
moment lost, and was only prevented from tumbling forward by a bag held
behind him in his left hand, while his right arm and hand, at full
length, pointed a sharp arrow in front of him.

'Can you tell me what _that_ figger represents?' asked Chapin. As he
received no reply, he continued: '_That_ is Enterprise; the two little
ruts at his feet represent a railroad; the arrow, showin' he's sharp,
points ahead; Go ahead! is his motto; the bag in his hand represents
money, which the keen, sharp, shrewd business man knows is the reward of
enterprise. The wreath round his head is laurel mixed up with lightnin',
showin' he's up to the tellygraph; the pen behind his ear shows he can
figger; and his short shirt shows economy, that admirable virtoo. The
wings on his shoes air taken from Mercury, as I suppose you know; and--'

'I say, now, Chapin, don't you think he's got a little too much legs,
and rather extra stomach on him, to make fast time?' asked Rocjean.

'Measure him, measure him!' said Chapin, indignantly; 'there's a string.
Figure six times the length of his foot, everything else in proportion.
No, _sir_; I have not studied the classic for nothin'; if there is any
one thing I am strong on, it's anatomy. Only look at his hair. Why, sir,
I spent three weeks once dissectin'; and for more'n six months I didn't
do anything, during my idle time, but dror figgers. Art is a kind of
thing that's born in a man. This saying the ancients were better
sculpters than we air, is no such thing; what did they know about
steam-engines or telegraphs? _Fiddle!_ They did some fustrate things,
but they had no idee of fixin' hair as it should be fixed. No, sir; we
moderns have great add-vantagiz, and we improve 'em. Rome is the Cra--'

'I must bid you good-day,' interrupted Caper; 'your wife will