Dear ----:--Yure letter kame safe unto hand last nite bi mail, and i
hurry tew repli.
The best musketers now in market are raised near Bergen point, in the
dominion ov Nu Jersey.
They gro thare verry spontaneous, and the market for them iz verry
unstiddy--the grate supply injures the demand.
Two hundred and fifty to the square inch iz konsidered a paying krop,
altho they often beat that.
They don't require enny nussing, and the poorer the land the bigger the
yield.
If it want for musketers i dont kno what sum people would do thare tew
git a living, for thare iz a grate deal ov kultivated land thare that
wont raize ennything else at a proffit.
[Illustration: THE CURSID MUSKETO.]
The musketer iz a short lived bug, but don't waste enny time; they are
alwuss az reddy for bizzness az pepper sass iz, and kan bight 10
minnitts after they are born just az fluently az ever.
Thare iz people in this world so kontrary at heart, and so ignorant,
that they wont see enny wisdum in having musketers around; i alwus pitty
sutch pholks--their edukashun haz been sorely neglekted and aint level.
Wisdum iz like duks eggs--if yu git them, yu hav got tew sarch for
them--thare aint no duks in theze benighted days that will cum and la
eggs in yure hand--not a duk, Mr. ----, not a duk.
The musketo is a soshul insex; they liv verry thick amungst each other,
and luv the sosiety ov man also, but don't kontrakt enny ov hiz vices.
Yu never see a musketer that was a defaulter; they never fail to cum to
time, altho thousands looze their lives in the effort.
The philosophers tell us that the muskeeters who can't sing won't bight;
this information may be ov grate use to science, but aint worth mutch to
a phellow in a hot nite whare muskeeters are plenty.
If thare ain't but one musketer out ov ten that kan bight good, that iz
enuff to sustain their reputashun.
The philosophers are alwus a telling us sumthing that iz right smart,
but the only plan they kan offer us tew get rid ov our sorrows iz to
grin and bear them.
They kant rob one single musketer ov hiz stingger by argument. I say
bully for the muskeeter!
The muskeeter iz the child ov circumstansis in one respekt--he can be
born, or not, and liv, and die a square deth in a lonesum marsh, 1600
miles from the nearest nabor, without ever tasting blood, and be happy
all the time; or he kan git into sumboddy's bed-room thru the key-hole,
and take hiz rashuns reglar, and sing sams ov praze and glorificashun.
It don't kost a muskeeter mutch for hiz board in this world; if he kant
find enny boddy to eat he kan set on a blade ov swamp meadow gras and
liv himself to deth on the damp fog.
The musketo is a gray bug and haz 6 leggs, a bright eye, a fine busst, a
sharp tooth and and a reddy wit.
He dont waste enny time hunting up hiz customers, and alwus lights onto
a baby fust if thare iz one on the premises.