Text: Edgar Allan Poe (?), Literary, Broadway Journal (New York), November 29, 1845, vol. 2, no. 21, p. ???, col. ?

[page 322, column 1, continued:]

The Sibyl's Wreath and Floral Emblems, with the Natal Mouths. New.York: Published for the Prorpietor [[Proprietor]] by E. G. Langdon, 409 Broadway.

Some person has had the audacity to send us a book thus entitled, with a slip of paper containing the following words:

“The Sibyl's Wreath. — In this very pretty little volume we have found more real fun than all the games we have yet seen. — It is well got up, and deserves the patronage of every family in the Union.”

The intention, of course, is that we shall adopt this opinion as editorial — as our own.

We have no such opinion. The book is contemptible at all points, and we should be sorry to recommend it to “every family in the Union.” What would “every family in the Union” think of us, if, upon looking into a book at our recommendation, “every family in the Union” should find the detestable vulgarity which follows:

Love and stewed oysters.

A handsome husband, (or wife) and a moderate portion of juvenile responsibilities.

One dumpling and two plates.

Quizzing, courting, a quilting frolic, and a glass of soda-water, with a stick in it. [column 2:]

Love, lace, literature and ‘lasses.

Oh, Mr. Coon, you’re come too soon.

Prehaps I mought — prehaps I moughn n’t, etc., etc.

These things are designed as answers — and are nearly all of them to be found on one page.