In view of the past, you should have stuck to UGEENY, who, I understand,
is good lookin' and sports a pretty nobby harness.
The charms of Nancy may make your Imperial mouth water, but let an old
statesman, who has served his country for 4 years as Gustise of the
Peece, say to you, "Don't be a fool if you know anything."
Another reason of your unsuccess is that Lager is a hard chap to fite
agin. I tried it once.
A Dutch millingtery company visited Skeensboro a few years since, for a
target shoot, bringin' a car lode of lager-beer and a box of sardeens
for refreshments.
I, bein' at that time Gustise, was on hand to help perserve the peece.
Lager, they told me, wasen't intoxicatin. I histed in a few mugs. I
woulden't just say that I got soggy, but I felt like a hul regiment of
Dutch soljers on general trainin' day.
It suddenly occurred to me that Mrs. GREEN had been puttin' on rather
too many airs lately, and I would go in and quietly remind her that I
was boss of the ranch.
Pickin' up a hoss-whip, I "shouldered arms," and entered the kitchen as
bold as the brave FISK of the bully 9th.
"MARIAR," said I, addressin' Mrs. GREEN, and tippin' over her pan of
dish-water so she coulden't wet my close, "yer 'aven't (hic!) tode the
mark as 'er troo (hic!) wife orter. I can't (hic!) 'ave any more of yer
(hic!) darn foolin'. Will yer (hic!) 'bey yer 'usband like a (hic!) man,
in the futer?"
I raised the hoss-whip to give her a good blow.
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