Plezzures make folks acquainted with each other, but it takes trials, and grief, tew make them know each other.
LIGHTNING BUGS.
It iz a curious fakt, that the meanest pashuns ov our heart are the strongest when we hav grown old, and the best ones, the weakest.
Truth dont require the aid ov elegant, and high stepping words, tew express its force, or buty, it iz like water, tastes better out ov a woodden bucket, than it duz out ov a golden goblet.
Them folks who are sudden, aint apt tew be solid; lively streams are alwus shallo.
Az we gro older, what we gain in experience, we looze in zest, thare iz a real relish in occasionly being phooled.
About the meanest critter thare iz now travelling around loose, on the breast ov the earth, iz a bashful hypokrite.
Solitude iz the idleness ov natur.
Thare iz az much flop in sum ov our pollyticians, az thare iz in a bukwheat slapjak, on a hot griddle.