"Illinoy," said tall, gaunt Jack North, of the One Hundred and Fourteenth Illinois, to me, one day, as we sat contemplating our naked, and sadly attenuated underpinning; "what do our legs and feet most look most like?" "Give it up, Jack," said I. "Why darning needles stuck in pumpkin seeds, of course." I never heard a better comparison for our wasted limbs.

The neck supported a small head. The face was wizened and tanned to a dark mahogany colour. It was ornamented with a grizzled goatee. The man smoked a stub pipe. His remarks were emphasized by the gestures of a huge and gnarled pair of hands. "Mr. Lawton is from Old Mizzou, too, afore he moved to Illinoy," commented Davidson.

"Where do you live at when you're home?" "Boston," said the child, promptly. "Where do you live?" "I used to live in Old Virginny. But my son, he's takin' me out to Illinoy, now. He's settled out there." She treated the child with the serious equality which simple old people use with children; and spat neatly aside in resuming her pipe. "Which o' them ladies yender is your maw, honey?"

"'Herman Slosser, Otterway, Illinoy ter be held till called fer. Thet's it, Cap; thet's his name, I'll bet ye; an' so we can't be so blamed fur frum this yere Otterway fort. Good Lord! won't I be glad fer ter see it." "Do you think it best to stop here?" "Why not? 'Tain't likely them devils will be back agin.

We lived in Illinoy once, and th' Lord only knows I wisht we lived there yet, though the farmin' was a sight of work and no pay sometimes." The inner doubts as to the biscuits proved too much for her. "Heaven knows, you ain't t' git much to eat," she cried, jumping up, "but you ain't goin' to git anythin' a tall if I don't run right off and tend to them biscuit." She bustled out.

These things don't happen to a man every day, and especially to beggin' your pardon to a man as young as yourself, sir. But the Democratic party of the th deestric' of Illinoy knows a good thing when they sees it. Sale's unconscious sarcasm hurt me. 'I have sounded them to the bottom, he went on, 'and it's Holloway, Holloway, Holloway, everywhere. Now you'll let us put you up, won't you?

I take it all in all, he is the most onpopular man in Illinoy to-day. His conduct is as hard to swaller as a dose of them old Greek twins, Castor Oil and Politics, we use to wrastle with at school.

All the older prisoners knew me by the nick-name of "Illinoy" a designation arising from my wearing on my cap, when I entered prison, a neat little white metal badge of "ILLS." When any reading matter was brought into our neighborhood, there would be a general cry of: "Take it up to 'Illinoy," and then hundreds would mass around my quarters to bear the news read.

Hain't they been a fightin' a spell up thur in Massouray or Illinoy, whar they built 'em a grandiferous temple? I've hearn some talk o't." "At Nauvoo. It is even so, Brother Holt the wicked Gentiles have been persecuting the Saints: just as their fathers were persecuted by the Egyptian Pharaohs." "An' hain't they killed their head man Smith he wur called, if I recollex right." "Alas, true!

"Well, where is the one she jumped from?" she pressed. "Nowhere," said Smith. "Oh!" she said, a bit disappointed. "Everywhere I've went," said he, "they've got some high place where the Indian girl jumped off of. In Mezoury they've got one, and even in Kansas. They've got one in Minnesota and Illinoy and Idaho, and bend my eyebrows if I know all the places they ain't got 'em!