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'Now, boys, says th' profissor, 'all together. 'Rickety, co-ex, co-ex, hullabaloo, bozoo, bozoo, Harvard, says th' lads. I was that proud iv me belovid counthry that I wanted to take off me hat there an' thin an' give th' colledge yell iv th' Ar- rchey road reform school. But I was resthrained be a frind iv mine that I met comin' over.
'I'm as good a man as ye ar-re. "'Gin'ral Billot, says th' prisident, 'what d'ye know about this infernal case which is broodin' like a nightmare over our belovid counthry, an' gettin' us up ivry mornin' befure milkin' time? "'Nawthin' at all, says Gin'ral Billot. "'Nayther do I, says th' prisident. 'But I think th' Cap's guilty.
He had an eye-glass pinned to his face an' he niver even smiled whin a young gintleman fr'm Harvard threw a sledge hammer wan mile, two inches. A fine la-ad, that Harvard man, but if throwin' th' hammer's spoort, thin th' rowlin' mills is th' athletic cintre iv our belovid counthry.
As this letter has never been printed, and as it is the only specimen extant of Mr. O'Rourke's epistolary manner, we lay it before the reader verbatim et literatim: febuary. 1864 mi belovid wife fur the luv of God sind mee pop gose the wezel. yours till deth . larry O rourke. "Pop goes the Weasel" was sent to him, and Mr.
An' th' ambassadure he says: 'Mos' rile an' luminous citizen, here is a copy iv th' Annual Thanksgivin' pro-clamation, he says. 'Tis addhressed to all th' hearty husbandmen iv our belovid counthry, manin' you among others, he says. 'An' here, he says, 'is th' revised constitution, he says.
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