"Not as I nose—on," replied the damsell.
"Then," sez the offisser, "I gess I'll stop awhile myself."
He stopped a our. After witch he stopped anuther our; after witch he continuood to stop.
During this time John Jones was garspin for breath. At last he felt he cood endoor it no longer, without—ingoory to his helth. He put his hed out of his strong hold and sed to the amazed offisser, "I think the draft will doo me good—I mean the draft of are."
"You air in favor of the Proclamashun!" red the offisser.
"Yis, and of ventilation."
The young man was not drafted, but he is still single—single-ar to say.
The abov is a correct report of the story as I heern it—I only heern the naims, fancy has supplide the rest.
P.S.—I larfed all the wa home; observin witch severil peple gave me the hole walk, evidently taking me for a hilarious loonatic.
A. Ward will shortly lecshoor on Asstronmy, I heer, partickly upon the Konstlashun ov the Suthern Cross, which he portends he found out to be a MULATTO.