Two Letters
Dear Laubenhimer.—I dont know who writ “Babes in the Woods,” but who ever did, hit natur. I hav forgot now the diagnosis ov the book, all i kan remember iz, i red it when i waz a boy, and i bought one 25 years after that for mi son, and only last week, bought another for mi grandson, and when he grows up to be a man, and iz wed, and haz results, he will buy it for hiz children. Robinson Kruso, Jak the Giant Killer, and babes in the woods, will wear az long az allminaxes will. I dont kno az thare iz a partikle ov bible truth in them, but they are so wonderphull, that if they didn’t never cum to pass, it seems az tho they ought to.
Dear Onderdonk.—Thare iz only one way to brake a kiking heifer, and that iz, to stop her growth bi deth. When a heifer gits to kiking, the smartest mishionary in the world kant console her, she will kik over her own mother, just az liberally az she will a perfekt stranger.
They will allways manage to stand middling still untill yu git the pail just about full, and then for fear they wont hit it, they will kik with both feet to oust, and squeal into the bargain. After they hav kikt the milk over, they are perfektly resighned, and will stand and chew their kud, and let yu milk them for two hours if yu want to.
Buoys
The fust man that waz murdered in this world waz the only pure one living at that time.
I like to see all things true to natur, even a hornet that kant sting, is a melankolly failure.
Next to a kart,
He plods, and he moans,
A skeleton phantom,
A mere rak ov bones.