A Philadelphia paper says:—“For the last week the children have talked of nothing but ‘little Dollie Dutton;’ cries and frettings have been stopped by promises to go and see Dollie Dutton; noise and confusion have been suddenly hushed by ‘tell me about Dollie Dutton?’ Dollie has come, and in a ‘shape no bigger than an agate stone on the fore-finger of an Alderman.’ Beautifully formed, quick, graceful, with the most sparkling eyes, the prettiest curls, the neatest little arms and exquisite hands; so spry intelligent, and yet only weighing fifteen pounds and only knee high to a grasshopper! Running along the isles of the Hall she looks like a fairy that would hardly tip a blade of grass with her foot or shake a drop of dew from a rose. Her Chariot could easily be an empty hazel nut, made by a joiner squirrel, or old grub ‘time out of mind, the fairies coach maker.’ Tom Thumb assumes [Illegible] proportions compared with this lilliputian. A young gentleman of her age, placed upon the stage beside her is surprised when she can hardly reach with her hand to his vest. The hall will certainly be crowded again to-night to see the fairy, and it is therefore, superfluous for us to urge all to attend. Those who looked at her an hour last night will be very first at the Hall to-night. Tom Thumb was a wonderful sight, what shall we say of the charming Dollie—one third his weight and size? Stay not upon the order of going, but go at once!”
Vermont Phœnix 9/8/1860. Print.