gregorius jersey

"Are you not a New Orleans boy?" she asked as I lifted my képi and drew rein.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo," thought I; "if those are not the same hundred-dollar boots I saw yesterday morning, at least they are their first cousins!"

"The horse may have to save you," drawled the Arkansan.

"Maiden passing fair, turn away thine eyes! Turn away thine eyes ere my bosom burn,

"She air!" He was pleased. "Yass, we all good frien's togetheh."

"Sa-ay! I'll wrastle you fo' them-ah clo'es."

He waited on the threshold with his dropsical back to me for my last word, and then, still in the same attitude, droned, "O-oh, he's dead. And anyhow," he finished out of sight in the hall, "that's not our way."

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