"'When the little fishes fly
Like swallows in the sky,'
An American will write an American book," said Bart, laughing. "But your question is a good answer to my solemn twaddle on literature."
"No, I don't quite rate it as twaddle," said Ida.
"Don't you though?" asked Bart.
"No," seriously. "Now what is the effect of our American literature upon the general character of English literature? We certainly add to its bulk."
"And much to its value, I've no doubt," said Bart. "Well, with increased strength and vigor, we shall begin by imperceptible degrees, to modify and change the whole, and the whole will ultimately become Americanized, till the English of this continent, partaking of its color and character, imparts its tone and flavor finally to the whole everywhere. I have not much faith in a purely American literature, notwithstanding Miss Giddings' advertisement."
"Mr. Ridgeley," said Miss Giddings, "your notions are depressing. I don't believe in them, and will oppose my woman's intuitions to your man's argument."
"My dear Miss Giddings," said Bart, laughing, "you value my notions quite as highly as I do; and I wouldn't take the criticisms of a young man who ran away from the only college he ever saw, and who has only heard the names of a few authors."
"I wont. They are not American; and yet there seems to be force in them."