Said your Unkle:

"What's the use of blubberin' about it? Cheer up and be a man. I belong,
body, sole and butes, to France, who says my name must be perpetuated.
You, JOSEFEEN, must pick up your duds and look for another
bordin'-house, for you can't run the Tooleries any longer."

He then sent to Chicago and got a ten dollar devorce, and married MARIAR
LOUISER, arter which he become a played-out institootion, employin' his
time walkin' _in solo_ with his hands behind him, gazin' intently on the
toes of his butes, and wonderin' if they was the same ones which had
histed so many roolers off of their thrones.

In view of the past, you should have stuck to UGEENY, who, I understand,
is good lookin' and sports a pretty nobby harness.

The charms of Nancy may make your Imperial mouth water, but let an old
statesman, who has served his country for 4 years as Gustise of the
Peece, say to you, "Don't be a fool if you know anything."

Another reason of your unsuccess is that Lager is a hard chap to fite
agin. I tried it once.

A Dutch millingtery company visited Skeensboro a few years since, for a
target shoot, bringin' a car lode of lager-beer and a box of sardeens
for refreshments.

I, bein' at that time Gustise, was on hand to help perserve the peece.

Lager, they told me, wasen't intoxicatin. I histed in a few mugs. I