timothy tail of that seed horse or the wavin' raisen mane of that prune
charger. It is a realm," sez I, "that I fear you will never stand in,
Josiah Allen."

"No, indeed," sez he; "and I don't want to. I hain't no desires that
way."

Again I sithed, and we walked off into another gallery.

Wall, I might write and keep a-writin' from Fourth of July to Christmas
Eve, and then git up Christmas mornin' and say truly that the half
hadn't been told of what we see there, and so what is the use of tryin'
to relate it in this epistle.

But suffice it to say that we stayed there all day long, and that night
we meandered home perfectly wore out, and perfectly riz up in our two
minds, or at least I wuz. Josiah's feelin's seemed to be clear fag, jest
plain wore out fag.

The nights are always cool in Chicago--that is, if the weather is
anyways comfortable durin' the day.

And this night it wuz so cool that a good woollen blanket and bedspread
wuz none too much for comfort.

And it wuz with a sithe of contentment that I lay down on my peaceful
goose-feather pillow, and drawed the blankets up over my weary frame and
sunk to sleep.

I had been to sleep I know not how long when a angry, excited voice