Faith iz one ov them warriors who dont kno when she iz whipped.
But Faith iz no milksop, but a live fighter. She dont set down and gro stupid with resignashun, and git weak with the buty ov her attributes; but she iz the heroine ov forlorn Hope—she feathers her arrows with reazon, and fires rite at the bull’s eye ov fate.
I think now if i couldn’t hav but one ov the moral attributes, i would take it all in faith—red hot faith I mean; and tho i mite make sum fust rate blunders, i would do a rushing bizzness amung the various dri bones thare iz laying around loose in this world.
BRANES.
Branes are a sort ov animal pulp, and by common konsent are suppozed tew be the medium ov thought.
How enny boddy knows that the branes do the thinking, or are the interpreters ov thought, iz more than i kan tell; and, for what i kno, this theory may be one ov thoze remarkable diskoverys ov man which aint so.
Theze subjeks are tew mutch for a man ov mi learning tew lift. I kant prove any ov them, and i hav too mutch venerashun tew guess at them.
Branes are generally supozed tew be lokated in the hed, but investigashun satisfys me that they are planted all over the boddy.
I find that a dansing master’s are situated in hiz heels and toze, while a fiddler’s all center in hiz elbows.
Sum people’s branes seem tew be placed in their hands and fingers, which explains their grate genius for taking things which they kan reach.