When you give a printer copy
He hands you back a pi—
And he made it in the gloaming
With his stomach full of rye!
noto bene:—Pleas com up and let us no which one goes. And pleas pardon a suggestion but I saw to-day a thing that wurred me verry grately. it was that the buggs insex and varments eats up Three Billion Dollars worth of the farmers truck and stuff every year. Don’t you think we ought to let them no about it.
JONAH.
The following compliment from an old friend, Judge John L. Miller, of Corsicana, Texas, is highly appreciated. When we say “old” friend it carries a double meaning, for in addition to having been our friend for many years, this grand old gentleman has nearly reached his ninetieth milestone, and is still enjoying good health. He writes:
When I learned that TROTWOOD was to edit TROTWOOD’S MONTHLY I folded my arms and shouted for joy, I knew the author of “Ole Mistis” and “Miss Kitty’s Funeral,” two of the brightest literary gems of modern times, could and would give us a monthly that would be read and appreciated by all reading people in both North and South. This is the character of reading matter the whole country needs, and judging from the first number of TROTWOOD’S MONTHLY I think we will get it. The visitor from Tennessee is gladly welcomed, bringing as it does into our home good cheer and sunshine—short gems of poetry, making “Tears from eyelids start,” then smiles and ringing laughter.
With Little Sister, we grieve over the condemned long-legged colt. We help her to rescue the little deformed thing from the hands of the negro executioner. We shout and sing and dance and “’Rah for Little Sister” at the race course as she swings proudly into the ring and wins the race.
Right gladly we renew our acquaintance with “Old Wash” and our sympathies are his as he attempts with his luscious watermelons to reach the hearts of his people through their stomachs, and also defeats his own purpose through their stomachs.