The late Eugene Field, while on one of his lecturing tours, entered
Philadelphia.
There was some delay at the bridge over the Schuylkill River, and the
humorist's attention was attracted by the turbid, coffee-colored stream
flowing underneath. He asked the colored porter:
"Don't you people get your drinking-water from this stream?"
"Yassir! Ain't got no yuther place to git it frum, 'cept th' Delaweah.
Yassir!"
"I should think," said the humorist, "that you would be afraid to drink
such water; especially as the seepage from that cemetery I see on the hill
must drain directly into the river and pollute it."
"I reckon yo' all doan' know Philadelphy ve'y well, sah, aw yo'd know
dat's Lau'el Hill Cemete'y!" said the son of Ham.
"Well, what of that?" asked Field.
"Dat wattah doan' hu't us Philaydelphians none, sah," replied the native
son. "W'y, mos' all of de folkses bu'ied theah aw f'om ouah ve'y best
fam'lies!"--_Success._