emotions.  "& this," I sed to a man who was drivin' a yoke of oxen,
"this is where our revolutionary forefathers asserted their
independence and spilt their Blud. Classic ground!"

   "Wall," the man sed, "it's good for white beans and potatoes, but
was regards raisin' wheat, t'ain't worth a damn. But hav' you seen
the Grate Orgin?"

   I returned in the Hoss Cars, part way. A pooty girl in spectacles
sot near me, and was tellin' a young man how much he reminded her
of a man she used to know in Walthan. Pooty soon the young man got
out, and, smilin' in a seductive manner, I said to the girl in
spectacles, "Don't

    I

   remind you of somebody you used to know?"

   "Yes," she sed, "you do remind me of one man, but he was sent to
the penitentiary for stealin' a Bar'l of mackril—he died there, so
I conclood you ain't HIM."  I didn't pursoo the conversation. I
only heard her silvery voice once more durin' the remainder of the
jerney. Turnin' to a respectable lookin' female of advanced
summers, she asked her if she had seen the Grate Orgin.

   We old chaps, my dear, air apt to forget that it is sum time since
we was infants, and et lite food. Nothin' of further int'rist took
place on the cars excep' a colored gentleman, a total stranger to
me, asked if I'd lend him my diamond Brestpin to wear to a funeral
in South Boston. I told him I wouldn't—not a PURPUSS.

   WILD GAME
Altho' fur from the prahayries, there is abundans of wild game in
Boston, such as quails, snipes, plover, ans Props.  (The game of
"props," played with cowrie shells is, I believe, peculiar to the
city of Boston.)

   A excellent skool sistim is in vogy here. John Slurk, my old
pardner, has a little son who has only bin to skool two months, and
yet he exhibertid his father's performin' Bear in the show all last

 Prev. P 14/70 next