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I cimply desine givin the pints & Plot of a play I saw actid out at the theatre t'other nite, called Ossywattermy Brown or the Hero of Harper's Ferry. Ossywattermy had varis failins, one of which was a idee that he cood conker Virginny with a few duzzen loonatics which he had pickt up sumwhares, mercy only nose wher. He didn't cum it, as the sekel showed.

"Them fairy tales I handed you about ole Jeanne d'Arc and William the Conker," he said, "say, they must 'a' made you sore after-WOIDS!" "On the contrary, I was much interested in everything pertaining to your too brief visit," I returned; "I am even more so now." "Well, m'friend" he shot me a sidelong, distrustful glance "keep yer eyes open." "That is just the point!"

"On the level," he demanded, "didn't that William the Conker nor NONE o' them ancient gilt-edges live there?" "No." "Stung again!" He broke into a sudden loud cackle of laughter. "Why! the feller tole me 'at this here Pigeon place was all three rings when it come t' history. Yessir!

Disinterested affection is always flattering. 'Ah, dear! moaned Mrs Gamp, sinking into the shaving chair, 'that there blessed Bull, Mr Sweedlepipe, has done his wery best to conker me. Of all the trying inwalieges in this walley of the shadder, that one beats 'em black and blue.

'I feel, as a private citizen, that so long, he says, 'as the br-right star iv liberty shines resplindent over our common counthries, with th' example iv Washin'ton in ye'er eyes, an' th' iliction comin' on, that ye must go forward an' conker or die, he says. 'An', he says, 'Willum McKinley is not th' man to put annything in ye'er way, he says.