The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued
Too tight for all expressin',
Tell mother see how metters stood,
An' gin 'em both her blessin'.
Then her red come back like the tide
Down to the Bay o' Fundy,
An' all I know is they was cried
In meetin' come nex' Sunday.
THE TOWER OF LONDON
BY ARTEMUS WARD
Mr. Punch, _My Dear Sir_:--I skurcely need inform you that your
excellent Tower is very pop'lar with pe'ple from the agricultooral
districks, and it was chiefly them class which I found waitin at the
gates the other mornin.
I saw at once that the Tower was established on a firm basis. In the
entire history of firm basisis I don't find a basis more firmer than
this one.
"You have no Tower in America?" said a man in the crowd, who had somehow
detected my denomination.
"Alars! no," I anserd; "we boste of our enterprise and improovements,
and yit we are devoid of a Tower. America oh my onhappy country! thou
hast not got no Tower! It's a sweet Boon."
The gates was opened after a while, and we all purchist tickets, and
went into a waitin-room.
"My frens," said a pale-faced little man, in black close, "this is a sad
day."
"Inasmuch as to how?" I said.
"I mean it is sad to think that so many peple have been killed within
these gloomy walls.
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