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The origernal cawz is Our Afrikan Brother. I was into BARNIM'S Moozeum down to New York the other day & saw that exsentric Etheopian, the What Is It. Sez I, "Mister What Is It, you folks air raisin thunder with this grate country. You're gettin to be ruther more numeris than interestin.
Durin her discourse, the exsentric female grabed me by the coat-kollor & was swinging her umbreller wildly over my hed. "I hope, marm," sez I, starting back, "that your intensions is honorable! I'm a lone man hear in a strange place. Besides, I've a wife to hum." "Yes," cried the female, "& she's a slave!
"I don't know," sez I; "the price of my show is 15 cents pur individooal." "& can't our Soisety go in free?" asked the female. "Not if I know it," sed I. "Crooil, crooil man!" she cried, & bust into teers. "Won't you let my darter in?" sed anuther of the exsentric wimin, taken me afeckshunitely by the hand. "O, please let my darter in, shee's a sweet gushin child of natur."
"Then thou ist what the cold world calls marrid?" "Madam, I istest!" The exsentric female then clutched me franticly by the arm and hollered: "You air mine, O you air mine!" "Scacely," I sed, endeverin to git loose from her. But she clung to me and sed: "You air my Affinerty!" "What upon arth is that?" I shouted. "Dost thou not know?" "No, I dostent!"
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