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One of our competitors, having honestly purged her soul of every impulse she may ever have had to mimic the gardening of the cemeteries, planted her dooryard with a trueness of art which made it the joy of all beholders. Only then was it that a passing admirer stopped and cried: "Upon me soul, Mrs. Anonyma, yir gyairden looks joost loike a pooblic pairk!"

Und you haf arisdograts who might not pay taxes, and who holt all der offices, and get all der pooblic money, and who ist petter pefore de law, in all dings, dan ast dem dat be not arisdograts? Is it so?" Miller laughed outright, and shook his head at this question, continuing to examine the trinkets the whole time. "No, no, my friend, we've not much of that, in this part of the world, either.

'Do you ken who you had wi' you t' other night? 'Naa, but he was a pleesant shentleman. 'It was Tennyson, the poet. 'An' what may he be? 'Oh, he is the writer o' verses such as you see i' the papers. 'Noo, to think o' that, jest a pooblic writer, an' I gied him ma best bedroom! Of Mrs. Tennyson, however, the landlord remarked, 'Oh, but she was an angel!

Dey gets all der money of der pooblic, and haf all der power, but dey gets a little mads because dey might not force demselves on der gentlemen and laties of der coontry, as vell as on der lands und der offices!" "I swan! I don't know but this may be true! A'ter all, I don't know what right anybody has to complain of the Littlepages." "Does dey dreat beoples vell, as might coome to see dem?"

The man zays yaw may put it in the pooblic prints. I houp the bareheir will be honest enuff to deliver this scrowl; and that your honour will pardon Your umbil servant to command, DOROTHY COWSLIP." "P. S. Please my kaind sarvice to laayer Clarke. Squire Darnel's man is very civil vor sartain; but I'ave no thoughts on him I'll assure yaw.