I culdnt set down very maudestly, cos my hoops was too wide. Then ma she fixed up my hare, and maid a masque for me, and sed I was a true-ter-life Parisien greassette.
Soon as I got in the ball-room, every maskerline carackter got mashed on me, and warnted me for a partner. Every one I dansed with treeted me to ice creme and carrymels, and I guess, I ete supper bout seventeen times, in fact I ete so much, that a terrebel strane round my waste, warned that if I indulged my appytite eny more, a feerful catastrofy, was lierbel to take place.
Bout two o'clock I begun to get tired, & warnted to go home, but my partner, wot was Mr. Gilley, drest in the costum wot he sent me down to Ike Israel's on Chattam Strete, to hire for him, and wot the Jue sed, reprysented Tom Okiltree a Texas Briggand, promissed to get a carrage, and driv me home, if I'd stay till three. I was 'greed, so I dansed three or four more sets with him, and ete sum more creme. Then he got a close carrage, & told the driver to drive orful slow, cos he was frade the moshun of the carrage'd have a bad effect on my nerves.
Soon as we got started he tuk me on his knee, & got to huggin me round the piller slips & sheets and kissin my left eer, and gettin otherwise fermillyer, so I seen the moment had cum for me to be myself, so I lifted up my masque. Soon as he cot site of my face he xclaimed: "Oh! the Devil!"
"Yes, Sir," sez I, "tis the Devil."
Then, tellin the driver to stop the horses, he lifted up his foot and gin me a kick wot landed rite on ma's pachwurk quilt, and sed: "Go to the devil."
I guess he's mad at me, only he purtends not to be, but that's put on, cos he's frade I'll gin the hull thing away, and then the religus edittur and Mr. Wilson'll hav the laff on him.
The sosighety edittur's report in this mornins
Buster
says:
"The Parisien Greasette was conseeded by everybodie present to take the onhers of belle of the ball. The knowin ones claim that it was Miss Ellen Terrier, the latest artistick importashun from England, and that Mr. Vandybilt, as the Texas brig-gand, seen her home. If this is a fact, there'll likely be sum domestick thunder flyin round in a uptown manshun."
Our horse reporter is a reglar wimmin hater, and he'd walk round a hull
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