Bobby Bright is a smart boy; perhaps the reader will think he is
altogether too smart for one of his years. This is a progressive age,
and anything which young America may do need not surprise any
person. That little gentleman is older than his father, knows more
than his mother, can talk politics, smoke cigars, and drive a 2:40
horse. He orders "one stew" with as much ease as a man of forty, and
can even pronounce correctly the villanous names of sundry French and
German wines and liqueurs. One would suppose, to hear him talk, that
he had been intimate with Socrates and Solon, with Napoleon and Noah
Webster; in short, that whatever he did not know was not worth
knowing.
In the face of these manifestations of exuberant genius, it would be
absurd to accuse the author of making his hero do too much. All he has
done is to give this genius a right direction; and for politics,
cigars, 2:40 horses, and "one stew," he has substituted the duties of
a rational and accountable being, regarding them as better fitted to
develop the young gentleman's mind, heart, and soul.
Bobby Bright is something more than a smart boy.
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