"I hav no objecshuns to your goin into the Spear bizness," sez
I, "but you'll please remember I ain't a pickeril. Don't Spear
me agin, if you please." She sot down.

At Ann Arbor, bein seized with a sudden faintness, I called for
a drop of suthin to drink. As I was stirrin the beverage up, a
pale-faced man in gold spectacles laid his hand upon my
shoulder, & sed, "Look not upon the wine when it is red!"

Sez I, "This ain't wine. This is Old Rye."

"'It stingeth like a Adder and biteth like a Sarpent!'" sed the
man.

"I guess not," sed I, "when you put sugar into it. That's the
way I allers take mine."

"Have you sons grown up, sir?" the man axed.

"Wall," I replide, as I put myself outside my beverage, "my son
Artemus junior is goin on 18."

"Ain't you afraid if you set this example be4 him he'll cum to
a bad end?"

"He's cum to a waxed end already. He's learnin the shoe makin
bizness," I replide. "I guess we can both on us git along
without your assistance, Sir," I obsarved, as he was about to
open his mouth agin.