"To yur gals Smashin' 162 mellings at 50 cents a one .....................$81.00 Pleas remitt & save trouble.

but I can easy fall in the pond before the munth is out Thee its hoopincof time and you can easy ketch that you only hav to hold yur breth til you most bust our doctur is bully for hoopincof.

DE CUNJAH MAN O chillen, run, de Cunjah man, Him mouf ez beeg ez fryin' pan, Him yurs am small, him eyes am raid, Him hab

OL' DOC' HYAR Ur ol' Hyar lib in ur house on de hill, He hunner yurs ol' an' nebber wuz ill; He yurs dee so long an' he eyes so beeg, An' he laigs

OL' DOC' HYAR Ur ol' Hyar lib in ur house on de hill, He hunner yurs ol' an' nebber wuz ill; He yurs dee so long an' he eyes so beeg, An' he laigs

Long grass : Bobo wal-yur-deg.

So good-bye, Isaac, from yur lovin wife, Bessie....' As he read it, the man's fixed pallor and iron calm gave way.

"Yur ain't one o' the McCarthy gangare ye?" Mr. Lance Harriott felt a momentary moral exaltation in declaring truthfully that he was not one of a notorious band of mountain freebooters known in the district under that name.