mothers' petticoats, and then their wives', are hunk, and they never
leave hunk. As for me, give me trouser government, or give me a first
class funeral procession with me for the corpse.

Brethren, listen! Give me your ears! (the big ones first.) This thing
must be stopped _now_. Let us form an association for the suppression of
women, or a society for the prevention of cruelty to men. There is but
one way to cure this thing. Far out on the Western prairies dwells the
only sensible man on this continent. In the city ruled by him a man may
come home as tired as gin can make him, and his wife opens not her
mouth; he may jump over as many counters as he pleases, and none of his
wives will desire to go and do likewise. There she is the weaker vessel,
and it takes so many of her to equal one man, that she is kept in a
proper state of subjection. That's the secret; marry her a good deal.
The old maids are the ones who start the rows. Let them all be married
to some one man of a peaceable, loving, quiet disposition--say WENDELL
PHILLIPS. Let the President, if necessary, issue his proclamation making
the United States one vast Utah, and let us all be Young.

LOT.

* * * * *

RAMBLINGS.

BY MOSE SKINNER.

MR. PUNCHINELLO: If I should tell you that I particularly excelled in
writing verses you'd hardly believe me. But such is the fact. I've sent
poem after poem to all the first-class magazines in the country, which,