We left our horse in the shed, and,
entering the little unpainted bar-room, we heard a voice, in a strange,
outlandish accent, exclaiming "Diorama." It was an old man, with a full,
gray-bearded countenance, and Mr. Leach exclaimed, "Ah, here's the old
Dutchman again!" And he answered, "Yes, Captain, here's the old
Dutchman,"--though, by the way, he is a German, and travels the country
with this diorama in a wagon, and had recently been at South Adams, and
was now returning from Saratoga Springs. We looked through the glass
orifice of his machine, while he exhibited a succession of the very worst
scratches and daubings that can be imagined,--worn out, too, and full of
cracks and wrinkles, dimmed with tobacco-smoke, and every other wise
dilapidated. There were none in a later fashion than thirty years since,
except some figures that had been cut from tailors' show-bills. There
were views of cities and edifices in Europe, of Napoleon's battles and
Nelson's sea-fights, in the midst of which would be seen a gigantic,
brown, hairy hand (the Hand of Destiny) pointing at the principal points
of the conflict, while the old Dutchman explained.
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