higher up in the world a man is, the less good harness he puts
on. Hence Gin'ral HALLECK walks the streets in plain
citizen's dress, while the second lieutenant of a volunteer
regiment piles all the brass things he can find onto his back,
and drags a forty-pound sword after him.

Monk has been in the lord bisniss some time, and I understand
it pays, tho' I don't know what a lord's wages is. The wages
of sin is death and postage stamps. But this has nothing to
do with MONK.

One of Lord MONK'S daughters rode with him on the field. She
has golden hair, a kind, good face, and wore a red hat. I
should be very happy to have her pay me and my family a visit
at Baldinsville. Come and bring your knittin', Miss MONK.
Mrs. WARD will do the fair thing by you. She makes the best
slap-jacks in America. As a slap-jackist, she has no ekal.
She wears the Belt.

What the review was all about, I don't know. I haven't a
gigantic intelleck, which can grasp great questions at onct.
I am not a WEBSTER or a SEYMOUR. I am not a WASHINGTON or a
OLD ABE. Fur from it. I am not as gifted a man as HENRY WARD
BEECHER. Even the congregation of Plymouth Meetin'-House in
Brooklyn will admit that. Yes, I should think so. But while
I don't have the slitest idee as to what the review was fur, I
will state that the sojers looked pooty scrumptious in their
red and green close.

Come with me, jentle reader, to Quebeck. Quebeck was surveyed