"And how ist with you?" I inquired of the editor of the
"Bugle-Horn of Liberty," who sot near me.
"I can't go," he said, shakin' his head in a wise way. "Ordinarily I should delight to wade in gore, but my bleedin' country bids me stay at home. It is imperatively necessary that I remain here for the purpose of announcin', from week to week, that OUR GOV'MENT IS ABOUT TO TAKE VIGOROUS MEASURES TO PUT DOWN THE REBELLION!"
I strolled into the village oyster-saloon, where I found Dr. SCHWAZEY, a leadin' citizen in a state of mind which showed that he'd bin histin' in more'n his share of pizen.
"Hello, old Beeswax," he bellered; "how's yer grandmams? When you goin' to feed your stuffed animils?"
"What's the matter with the eminent physician?" I pleasantly inquired.
"This," he said; "this is what's the matter. I'm a habit-ooal drunkard! I'm exempt!"
"Jes' so."
"Do you see them beans, old man?" and he pinted to a plate before him. "Do you see 'em?"
"I do. They are a cheerful fruit when used tempritly."
"Well," said he, "I hadn't eat anything since last week. I eat beans now BECAUSE I eat beans THEN. I never mix my vittles!"