How, then, are ethnomasochistic WASPs to be “saved,” above all from themselves?

Three cheers for Jack! Hip hip! Hooray! Hip hip! Hooray! Hip hip! Hooray!

It seems to us, however, according to the rate at which novels have lately been published, that unless some great reformer or originalist shall, establish a new school, or unless some new principle of concoction be employed, by which the appetite for fresh stimulants may be satisfied, novel readers must soon become insensible to the charms of fiction, […]

“Luke did his work,” I said. “How could your father sell him?” “He worked all right. And the hands would work hard for him—mostly without the cowhide. But sometimes he didn't show much sense.”