"You're a helthy old sperret," I remarkt; and then I saw the
necessity of gettin him out of the hall. The wimin was yellin
and screaming, and the men was hollerin' perlice. A perliceman
really came and collerd my fat fren.

"It's only a fit, Sir Richard," I said. I always call the
perlice Sir Richard. It pleases them to think I'm the victim of
a deloosion; and they always treat me perlitely. This one did,
certainly, for he let us go. We saw no more of the Trans-Mejim.

It's diffikilt, of course, to say how long these noosances will
be allowed to prowl round. I should say, however, if pressed for
a answer that they will prob'ly continner on jest about as long
as they can find peple to lis'en to 'em. Am I right?

Yours, faithfull,
Artemus Ward.

5.4. AT THE TOMB OF SHAKSPEARE.

Mr. Punch, My dear Sir,--I've been lingerin by the Tomb of the
lamentid Shakspeare.

It is a success.

I do not hes'tate to pronounce it as such.

You may make any use of this opinion that you see fit. If you
think its publication will subswerve the cause of litteraoor, you
may publicate it.