The Bad Boy At Home And His Experiences In Trying To Become An Editor - 1885
blok, fore he'd meet a gal, wat'd try to flert with him. I guess he's a grass widder that used to hav a woman, wot maid him tow a chock line, and he aint never got no divorse from her yet. His affeckshuns is all lavished on good lookin horses, and he'd giv more for one of them, than he wuld for Lillie Lan-kry or the hull curboodel of perfesshunal buties.

   I alwus did think it was a pitty, for a good lookin man like him, not to hav sum wimmin, wot was brakin there harts, and everything for him, so this mornin I sent out notes to a cuppel of gals, wot I thot was warntin to get mashed, tellin them to call at the

    Buster

   offis, & ast for the Horse Reporter, 'cos he was ded struk on them, and warnted there compinny, on a trip to Boston tonite.

   Bout one 'clock, a grate stout woman, wot looked like a reglar bruisir, cum inter the offis and enquired for the Horse Reporter. I show'd her into his room, and shut the dore, just enuf so as I could see all wot went on.

   "Air yer the spalpeen, wot calls hisself the Maire Reporter? sez she.

   "I am the horse reporter, madame. Has your mare got the glanders?"

   "Me ma got the glanders, yer inserlent puppie, is that fhat yer say? Me ma wots ben neeth the old sod fer ten yers. Don't cast any miscomplementry reflecshuns, yung man, on my ma wot dide of anty-consumpshun, or I'll plant the fore end of me toe nales forninst the pit of yer stummick in a way wot'll mak yer feel like a he muel had bruk loose. Air yer the in-dyvidooal wot sent me this invytashun?' sed she, handin the reporter the note.

   "I assure you, madam," sez he, "there must be some mistak, cos I didn't never rite this note."

   "Yees didn't, yer rech; is that the way your after crawlin outer it, after try in to ruin a respectibel widdy like meself? Praps yer don't think I'm good lookin enuf for yer, yer babby-faced, downey-lipped, banged-haired, slim-legged, tite-laced, corset-cased, monkey-taled sun of a noospaper doode. If my Pat was livin he'd giv yer a lessin next time yer tride to mash a yung widdy like meself, moind that now, will yer!"

   She hadn't hardly got outer the door wen a tall, lone, lank maidin, wot had seen bout forty sommers and too numerous to menshun winters, cum salin in, with a slitely ellyvated skurt wot exposed to vue a couple of wite and blue shafts wot might have been pipe-stems if they hadn't bin 
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