The _Live Man_ iz like the little pig; he iz weaned young, and begins
tew root arly.
He iz the pepper-sass ov creation--the all-spice ov the world.
One _Live Man_ in a village is like a case ov itch in a distrikt
skool--he sets evry boddy scratching at onst.
A man who kan draw New Orleans molasses in the month ov January, thru a
half inch augur-hole, and sing "Home! sweet home!" while the molasis iz
running, may be strictly honest, but he aint sudden enuff for this
climate.
The Live Man iz az full ov bizness az the conducter ov a street kar--he
iz often like a hornet, very bizzy, but about what, the Lord only knows.
He lights up like a cotton faktory, and haint got enny more time tew
spare than a skool-boy has Saturday afternoons.
He is like a decoy duck, alwus above water, and lives at least 18 months
each year.
He is like a runaway hoss; he gits the whole ov the road.
He trots when he walks, and lies down at night only bekauze everyboddy
else duz.
The live man is not always a deep thinker; he jumps at conclusions, just
as the frog duz, and don't alwus land at the spot he is looking at.
He is the Amerikan pet, a perfekt mystery tew foreigners; but he has
done more (with charcoal) tew work out the greatness of this country
than any other man in it.
He is jist as necessary as the grease on an axle-tree.
He don't alwus die ritch, but alwus dies bizzy, and meets death a good
deal az an oyster duz, without making enny fuss.