Tel, blame it! it wuz better 'n a jack-o'-lantern show!
And I'd go furder, yit, to-day, to hear old Jap norate
Than any high-toned orator 'at ever stumped the State!

W'y, that-air blame Jap Miller, with his keen sircastic fun,
Has got more friends than ary candidate 'at ever run!
Do n't matter what _his_ views is, when he states the same to you,
They allus coincide with your'n, the same as two and two:
You _can't_ take issue with him--er, at least, they haint no sense
In startin' in to down him, so you better not commence.--
The best way's jes' to listen, like your humble servant does,
And jes' concede Jap Miller is the best man ever wuz!




A SOUTHERN SINGER.

Written In Madison Caweln's "Lyrics and Idyls."

Herein are blown from out the South
Songs blithe as those of Pan's pursed mouth--
As sweet in voice as, in perfume,
The night-breath of magnolia-bloom.

Such sumptuous languor lures the sense--
Such luxury of indolence--
The eyes blur as a nymph's might blur,
With water-lilies watching her.