"His first pardner lies

   Beneath the turf,

   He is wandering now,

   In sorrow's briny surf.

   "Two twins, the little

   Deah cherub creechahs

   Now wipe the teahs

   From off his classic feachahs.

   "Oh sweet lot, worthy

   Angel arisen,

   To wipe teahs

   From eyes like hisen.

   "What think you of it?" says she, as I finished readin'.

   I looked right at her 'most a minute with a majestic look. In spite
of her false curls and her new white ivory teeth, she is a humbly
critter. I looked at her silently while she sot and twisted her long
yellow bunnet-strings, and then I spoke out. "Hain't the editor of
the

    Augur

   a widower with a pair of twins?"

   "Yes," says she with a happy look.

   Then says I, "If the man hain't a fool, he'll think you are one."

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