It iz a grate art to kno how tew listen.
This seems to be about the way it iz did: When we are yung, we _run_
into difikultys, and when we git old, we _fall_ into them.
Love seems tew hav this effekt, it makes a yung man sober, and an old
man gay.
Love iz a lighted kandel, and coquets fly around it, just az a miller
duz, till by-and-by they dive into it, and then what a burnt coquet and
miller we hav.
It ain't bekauze lovers are so sensitiff that they quarrel so often, it
iz bekauze thare iz so mutch phun in making up.
I don't kno but a Prude may possibly fall in love, but if they ever do,
they don't kno it.
About the last thing a man duz tew korrekt hiz faults iz tew quit them.
I should jist az soon expekt tew see a monkey fall in love as to see a
dandy.
The wimmen ought tew ketch all them phellows who part their hair in the
middle, and clap a red flannel pettycoat on them.
[Illustration]
The chief end ov woman, now daze, seems tew be to wear new silk clothes,
and the chief end ov man seems to be to pay for them.
About all that this far famed _Philosophy_ kan teach us, iz tew suffer
pain, and not own it, and it seems to hav reached the hight of its
ambishun when it courts sorrow, for the sake ov being a martyr.
Pure ignoranse, after all, iz the best alloy for vanity, for a vain
phool iz quite harmless. It iz better that we be grater than our
condishun in life, than tew hav our condishun appear too grate for us.
There iz nothing that a man kan do that should cut him off from pitty,
the fakt that he iz human should always entitle him to commiserashun.
Prudes hoard their virtews, the same az mizers do their money, more for
the sake ov recounting them, than for use.
If yu seek wisdum, mi yung friend, studdy men, and things, if yu desire
larning, studdy dikshionarys.