Steals up and down the stream,
And when the sun hiz daily rase
Haz well ni run,
With basket full, and bottle empty,
Dark Old Ishmahel, prowder
Than a king, goes whissling back
The way he cum.
THE DANDY AND THE THIMBLE-RIGGER.
After natur had finished the fust man and the fust woman, she had a little material left at the bottom ov her cups, and not willing tew waste ennything, she mixt the two remnants together, more for a frolick than ennything else, just to see what the compound would produce.
Throwing the mixture onto the dieing coals, in a few minnitts a half-baked, comikal creature lay smirking, and mincing, before her.