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Various

"Punchinello, Volume 2, No. 36, December 3, 1870"

Take it and be 'appy. Now trot out
yer (hic!) benzeen," says SPENCER. At this pint I give the signle, and
the foldin doors was throde quickly open, revealin my 3 gals in a
classic tabloo. I then said:
"Feller Sitizens: When I say I'me hily pleased at this onexpected
cerprise, I but reiterate the pent up feelins of an overflowin heart."--
"Oh, cork up on that ere spoutin, and sound yer supper bell," said JOE
BIGLER, interuptin me. I again went on.
"As I casts my eyes about me, I see the smillen faces of my feller
sitizens, who have been tride and not found _wantin_--"
"That's a lie! We are _wantin_ some vittles, with a little (hic!)
opedildock to wash her down. When you hired us to do this job, you
(hic!) 'greed to fill up," says a voice.
I pertended as how I dident hear the raskle's insultin remarks, but I
was secretly itchin to be a silent spectator to his funeral, and see his
miserable carciss sunk down under about 6 foot of free sile. I
continnered;
"You see before you, Faith, Hope & Charity, otherwise called the 3
graces," said I, pintin to my darters, who looked as sheepish as if they
was jest let loose from a femail convenshun, or some other loonatick
asylum.
"Yer cant cram that stuff down our gullets, no more'n I can stand on
this sugar bole without mashin it" said a vile youth, ceasin the sugar
bole from the silver tea sarvice and settin his foot onto it.


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