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"How so?" cried Opie "Marry, thus," replied the other, "my neighbors over the way will see you, and say, 'Fuseli's done, for there's a bum bailiff," he looked at Opie, "'going to seize his person; and a little Jew broker," he looked at Northcote, "'going to take his furniture, so come in I tell you come in!"
I was prevented from finishing this until to-day, when I have a new domestic event to relate. Maria, no longer a music mistress, has leased the Opal Farm, it seems, and will remain with me this winter pending the repairing of the house, which Amos Opie himself is to superintend. I wish I could fathom the ins and outs of the matter, which are not at present clear, but probably I shall know in time.
There is a strange contrast between his genius, which is not confined to painting, and the vulgarity of his appearance, his manners, and sometimes of his language. You will however easily conceive that a man who can paint like Opie, must display the same taste on other subjects. He is very fond of Spenser. No author furnishes so many pictures, he says.
Among them are Reynolds, Hogarth, Gainsborough, Morland, Wilson, Fuseli, Zoffani, Blake, Opie, De Loutherbourg, Northcote, Harlow, Jackson, Bonington, Lawrence, &c. &c.; and, as many of the specimens are associated with pleasurable recollections, we will endeavour to notice a few of them, in succession with the works of the living Artists.
Leigh and Miss Opie, who had seen her on board, the latter with many injunctions to ascertain that two old-fashioned hirsute trunks containing her wardrobe were really put into the steamer at Quebec. Bluebell had treated herself to a smart little portmanteau for the cabin, being rather ashamed of her antediluvian luggage.
To Amos Opie David is the only type of hound worthy of the name; consequently there has been no little language upon the subject. That is, Larry has done the talking, punctuated by contemptuous "huhs" and sniffs from Amos, until day before yesterday.
By the way, we have financially persuaded Opie to leave his straggling meadow, that carpets our vista to the river, for a wild garden this summer, instead of selling it as "standing grass," which the purchasers had usually mown carelessly and tossed into poor-grade hay, giving a pittance in exchange that went for taxes.
Apparently, Miss Bluebell was not in the suavest of humours, for she flung her hat on to one crazy chair, and herself on another, with a vehemence that caused a sensible concussion. "My dear, how brusque you are," said Mrs. Leigh, plaintively. "So provoking," muttered Bluebell. "What's gone wrong with the child now?" said Miss Opie, the elder proprietress of the domicile.
Letters were so rare and unlooked for at the cottage, that the postman never included it in his rounds; and the contents of the pigeon-hole appropriated to them at the office was seldom inquired for, except on mail-days, when there might be an off-chance of an English letter for Miss Opie.
Hearing her step, he started, turned, and, as he saw her upon the threshold, made a grab for his coat and swung it into place. It is strange, this instinct in civilized man of not appearing coatless before a woman he respects. "Amos Opie is very ill, I'm afraid," she said gravely, without the least self-consciousness or thought of intrusion.
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