More rip-snortin’ humor from the original Keepapitchinin:
HINTS TO SKATERS.
Allus invariable take 2 pillers with you, fasen won ov um onto the bak ov your hed and the other –
Wal, experens’l soon teech you ware tu put the uther piller.
A disconsolate widower, seeing the remains of his late wife lowered into the grave, exclaimed, with tears in his eyes: “Well, I’ve lost hogs. I’ve lost cows; but I never lost anything that cut me up like this.”
Sep. 14 1867.
Mr. Editor, Dear Sir;
I sit down and take my pen in hand to write you these few lines hoping they will find you the same as they leave us all at present. The celebration of the 4 of July passed off with much spirits. We was roused at early dawn by the raising of the Stars and Stripes, whereupon old mother earth was shaken to the foundation by the reverberating thunder of the military artillery, consisting of one Blunderbuss, two Yagers and a double-barreled Shotgun. After reading the “Declaration,” procession formed as follows: –
1st. Captain Blowhard and Martial Band.
2nd. Orator of the day (disguised in a clean shirt.)
3d. 4 elderly Virgins each bearing a child in her arms – Motto: “Encourage home manufacture.”
4th. 4 young Men with buckskin leggings and Mexican spurs; each having an Alabama bandanna arranged transversely over the breast and bearing a copy of your valuable paper in his left hand. Motto: “Keepapitchinin.”
6th. Visitors, transients, strangers, loafers, etc.
7th. More visitors.
After marching around the square 4 times the procession turned into the school house – music burst forth, and the old men and young maidens went forth in the dance until the wee sma hours ayont the twal.
Please find enclosed $10.
I have, &c.,
[Br. Shute, no one knows better than yourself that it is not our province to find fault, yet we must say your letter is not entirely satisfactory, in more respects than one. The money has not come to hand – and your report is rather behind time – rather late in the day. It won’t do – not for a live paper like ours. Ed.]
Tune. “From Greenland’s icy mountings.”
My grubbing-hoe is furnished –
My bundle’s ready tied;
Although indeed, to fit me out,
I want a ‘Muddy’ bride.
Then wherefore should I tarry?
Of single life I’m sick,
I’ve three straw beds already –
I only lack the tick.
The counsel is to marry.
Let us obey the law –
If you can find the ticking,
Why, I can furnish straw.
If the gentleman who stole one of our kid gloves the other day, will call at this office, it will afford us pleasure to present him with its mate, as it is of no further use to the proprietor.