"Oh, yes!" says Bridget. "She said any one who could stay with you three months, must be an angel."
Say, I picked up a newspaper this morning, and I was astonished at the great events that are taking place.
I see that George Washington, colored, was appointed postmaster of the town of Gooseberry, N. C., at 9:15 yesterday morning, took up his situation at 9:30, and was lynched at 9:45.
I see that Mark Hanna has donated two millions to be spent in buying ice-cream and ginger snaps for the w-o-r-k-i-n-g-m-a-n.
I had a terrible dream about Mark, last night. It was so terrible that I got right up and dedicated a song to it.
It's entitled:
"What Did I Have For Supper; or, If I Knew What It Was I'd Eat It Again."
A low key, professor. Not a latchkey.
