eyes bein brite enuff to lite a pipe by. How I shood like to
have little Maria out on my farm in Baldinsville, Injianny, whare
she cood run in the tall grass, wrastle with the boys, cut up
strong at parin bees, make up faces behind the minister's back,
tie auction bills to the skoolmaster's coat-tales, set all the
fellers crazy after her, & holler & kick up, & go it just as
much as she wanted to! But I diegress. Every time she cum
canterin out I grew more and more delighted with her. When she
bowed her hed I bowed mine. When she powtid her lips I powtid
mine. When she larfed I larfed. When she jerked her hed back
and took a larfin survey of the aujience, sendin a broadside of
sassy smiles in among em, I tried to unjint myself & kollapse.
When, in tellin how she drempt she lived in Marble Halls, she
sed it tickled her more than all the rest to dream she loved
her feller still the same, I made a effort to swaller myself;
but when, in the next song, she look strate at me & called me
her Dear, I wildly told the man next to me he mite hav my close,
as I shood never want 'em again no more in this world.  [The
"Plain Dealer" (The Cleveland "Plain Dealer," a well-known
Ohio newspaper, to which Mr. Artemus Ward wishes us to
understand he contributed.) containin this communicashun is
not to be sent to my famerly in Baldinsville under no
circumstances whatsomever.]

   In conclushun, Maria, I want you to do well. I know you air a
nice gal at hart & you must get a good husband. He must be a man
of branes and gumpshun & a good provider—a man who will luv you
strong and long—a man who will luv you jest as much in your old
age, when your voice is cracked like an old tea kittle & you can't
get 1 of your notes discounted at 50 per sent a month, as he will
now, when you are young & charmin & full of music, sunshine & fun.
Don't marry a snob, Maria. You ain't a Angel, Maria, & I am glad
of it. When I see angels in pettycoats I'm always sorry they
hain't got wings so they kin quietly fly off whare thay will be
appreshiated. You air a woman, & a mity good one too. As for
Maccarony, Brignoly, Mullenholler, and them other fellers, they can
take care of theirselves. Old Mac. kin make a comfortable livin
choppin cord wood if his voice ever givs out, and Amodio looks as
tho he mite succeed in conductin sum quiet toll gate, whare the
vittles would be plenty & the labor lite.

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