J. PARKER LEWIS.
The Little (Gents. Mercer) Wonder.

Crossing the threshold, the soldier shouted: "How are you?"

The clothier, whose skin was as hide which had been scorched in a
tanner's yard, bent over the counter. "Man bach," he exclaimed, "glad am
I to see you. Pray will I now that you are all Zer Garnett." His
thanksgiving finished, he said: "Wanting a suit you do."

"Yes, and no," replied the soldier. "Cheap she must be if yes."

"You need one for certain. Shabby you are."

"This is a friendly call. To a low-class shop must a poor tommy go."

"Do you then not be cheated by an English swindler." The clothier raised
his thin voice: "Kate, here's a strange boy."

A pretty young woman, in spite of her snaggled teeth, frisked into the
room like a wanton lamb. Her brown hair was drawn carelessly over her
head, and her flesh was packed but loosely.

"Serious me," she cried, "Llew Eevans! Llew bach, how are you? Very big
has the army made you and strong."

"Not changed you are."

"No. The last time you came was to see the rabbit."