I said did Uncle Ned know what for Mexican dogs havent got any hair, and he said: “Yes, I learnt it from a old man script which I found in a Hindoo temple in Kansas. One day soon after the creation Adam he was a walkin in the Garden and he seen a dog with long curly hair which hung clear down to the ground. Adam he said: ‘My! what a beautiful back of hair you have got.’ “Now, the dog was a fool and prouded his self on his hair, so he answered: ‘You ought to seen it fore I had that fever. It hasent been the same since.’ “Adam he knew there hadnt been no fever, cause there wasnt any sin, for it is sin which makes a feller sick.” I ast Uncle Ned was it sin which made Franky sick the time he had a pain in his lap and howled like he was cats. Uncle Ned said: “Yes, it was, cause the sins of the father shall be fisted on to the childern, and you are mighty lucky it was Franky in stead of you which sufferd for my wicked brothers Repubcan afiliations. It will be you next time if you dont stop encurrigin him to support a Presdent which eats with niggers. But I was tellin you about that dog. “When Adam heard him lie he made a jump at him for to kick him over the garden wall, but the dog he lit out for Mexico so fast that the friction of the atmisphere set him afire and burnt his hair every little bit off. He lived for to found a large famly in the land of his adoption, but they are all bald just like he was. “Now, my boy, you go and tell your angel sister about this, cause there never was a woman which dident say her hair used to be longer fore she had a fever. They are mighty funny, women be, and have got to be crushed out with a ironicle hand!” Yesterday Mister Pitchel, thats the preacher, he was to our house, and he said to Uncle Ned: “Brother Edward, have you read in the paper a bout the cruelty of the warden at the Sing Sing penitentionary?” Uncle Ned he said he did, and it was just like him, for he is a Repubcan. Then my father spoke up and said: “Politics hasnt got any thing to do with it. Its cause the prisners is Demcrats.” Mister Pitchel he said: “Surely, Robert, you don’t justfy mistreatin convicks be cause of their politicle faiths!” My father said: “Yes, I do. When a fellers politicle faith makes him burgle, and garote, and bigam, and larcen, and shoot, and go to the theater with a other mans wife I say shut him up in a dark, unwholesome cell and give him fits three times a day with a black snake whip. If I was that warden and any news paper man come around pokin his nose in to none of his business Ide take him by the scruf of his pants and the seat of his neck and chuck him into the bay. I respeck the preachin trade much as any body, Mister Pitchel, but I bedam if I wouldent!” Then Uncle Ned he said: “Robert, your eminent services in reformin the geography of this state entitle you to a respectable hearin, even when you dont swear, and I should like to have your views on penology more at length.”