Thare iz a good time comeing, so we are told, and we have waited so long for it, we might az well hang on now till it cums.
Prudence.—I received yure kind letter yesterday, and must admit that i kant answer yure question.
I don’t kno what a Dolly Varden iz.
I kno that all the ladys, when they walk out, hav an immense sight of clothes, all in one spot, about the center ov their backs, but whether this iz a Dolly Varden, or knot, I dont kno, and darsent ask.
I hav looked in Webster unabridged, and kant find it thare. I hav waded in the ensiklopedio, and lo! it aint thare. I have asked all mi bacheler friends, and they blush, and begin tew talk about the poets, Longfellow and Harry Bassett. I have spoke tew married men about it, (I am married too) and they say “hush” and pass on in a grate hurry, and I begin tew guess, the whole thing iz a kussid sell, got up expressly to Bear the market.
Prudence, I giv it up square, I dont kno what a Dolly Varden iz, and I aint a going tew try to find out enny more nuther, for I am satisfied, from what I hav found out about it allready, that it iz none ov mi bizzness.
Picayune.—The sucker iz not a game phish, the very name indicates that.
They won’t bight at a hook, and are a lazy set ov vagrants, emigrating in the spring ov the year, out ov muddy mill ponds, up sluggish streams, into the country.
They kant liv in swift water, they are too lazy tew ketch their breth in it.
They are az tasteless az a merino potatoe, and az for general intelligence, are jist about on a par, with a korn kob.