Sumthin muster ben Eppydemic in that church, cos everybodie, xceptin me and Maria, got to coffin and spuein up, and prayin Good Lord deliver us.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE DEVIL'S OCCUPASHUN GONE.—POLLYTISHUN OR JURNERLIST.—
PLANS FOR THE FUTURE.—ADDYOU.
I aint no devil no more, cos this mornin Mr. Gilley informed me that I was gettin too big for my persishun, and he'd hired a nuther boy to act as the Busters Devil. He sez I can fuie round and act in the cuppaserty of missellaneus reporter, and rite up eny thing I think wurth wile, till it was time for us to go to Albanie and get inaugerated. Then he'd warnt me to act as his Privat Seckertery, cos he knowed I had his interest at hart, and was discrete enuf not to give him away.
I don't kno yet wether I'd better axcept his offer to become a pollytishun, cos I've got my mind set on the jurnerlistick perfesshun, and its bout the eesiest way to mak a fortune and a name wot I culd get.
I'll think over the matter, Mr. Diry, and if I can't get a situashun as a Washinton gossipper or a job on the Herald, to rite up the abberiginies of Cannadey, I may go on to Albanie, and rite up all the triks of the pollytishuns, jest to keep myself in pracktiss til we go outer offis.
I must close, Mr. Diry, cos I'm goin down to the hotel to intervue Curnel Bob, Ingysoll, and see if a feller like me wuldn't stand sum sho to make munny and a big name, if he was to start out as a “genuine devil” brok loose from Haydies.
And you, mister, remember if I ain't no longer a
typergraffickal devil, I still am,
Yours trooly,
Georgie.