60. LX.
JOSH GITS ORFULLY BIT
I du consider musketers,
The moste pesky, ov all God's creeters.
I hav finally ketched it. I hav bin like a lam
led sudden tu the slauter and had mi blood sucked
out ov me, az though it waz only sweet sider, and belonged
tu sumbody else. I am a man ov peace, but
low, and behold! there aint a peace in me now, but
what iz bit, punkterd, and tore.
When muskeeters whisper in yure ear,
The devils angels are hovring near.
I retired laste nite tu rest, at the usual time; on
the north side ov me, and about 2 feet adjacent, waz
the side ov the hous, on the south side ov me, and
about 2 feet adjacent la mi wife. I dropt tu sleep, az
a snoflake dus on the buzzum ov a silvery Lake, (i
have a faint idee that this laste sentense, for lovlaness,
kant be beat, handy.) I dreamed a good-sized,
hot dream.
It felt like the breth ov a kanada Thissell,
A round mi hed, a triing tu Whissell.
Suddenly i awoke.
The room waz full ov yels, and skreams, responsiv
I dashed wildly akross the room, ackompanied by
mi shirt tale. i lit a lite. I harked, one ov mi
moste reliable harks. Awl waz still; still az a crows
nest, in the ded ov winter. I gazed a gaze, az tho i
waz triing tu thread the rong end ov a kambrik needle.
Awa in the distance, solitara, and alone, clus up tu
the ceiling, chawing hiz cud, sot a little grey cuss.
I dipped a koars towel into a basen ov water, and
rung it out, i krept up under the little grey cuss, i
tuk aim, and fired,
And hit the spot,
Whare the little grey cuss had sot.
Awl waz still again. I onlighted the kandle, and
saught mi kouch.
