A Little Indian Rubber.
I spent a werry plessent evening with the principle performers such as Red Shirt, and Cut Meat, and sum others, and whenever the conwersashun flagged I surgested a adjurnment to the Amerrycan Bar, and we allus tried a new drink, and this I will say for my forren frends that they took them all with the same coolness as if they had been the native drinks of the Far West End. The larst one we tried was called "A Yard of flannel," and for warmth and cumfort it was well-named, but somehows I fancy it must ha bin rayther a staggerer, for I remember werry little of what took place afterwards. But I have sum dim recklekshun of playing at cards with two Chiefs and a Squaw, and that one of them had a dress on sumthink like a porky-pine with his squills, and that I lost my money, and that sum familyer voice said, "Why, Robert, you've lost your Injian Rubber!" at witch we all larfed. How I got home I don't werry well remember, but I do remember, and shall probberbly never forget, the werry warm recepshun I met when at length I arrived there, or the nex morning's hed hake. I don't think I shall try "a yard of flannel," again in an hurry.
Robert.