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Sum was pretty & sum was Plane sum was helthy and sum was on the Wayne which is verses, tho sich was not my intentions, as I don't 'prove of puttin verses in Proze rittins, tho ef occashun requires I can Jerk a Poim ekal to any of them Atlantic Munthly fellers. "My wives, Mister Ward," sed Yung. "Your sarvant, marms," sed I, as I sot down in a cheer which a red-heded female brawt me.
Sing not, sing not, my Angeline! in days so base and vile, 'Twere sinful to be happy, 'twere sacrilege to smile. I'll hie me to my lonely hall, and by its cheerless hob I'll muse on other days, and wish and wish I were. "All young Hengland, I'm told, considers the poim bewtifle.
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