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. THE FAULT-FINDER. Good Lord, deliver us from the Falt finder, one ov yure kronick grunters, i mean. Theze kind ov human critters are alwuss full ov self consait; if tha waz humble and wud dam themself okasionally, i wud try tew pity them. Yure falt-finding old-bachelor, for instanze, odars a pair ov No. 8 boots, and then kolides with his shumaker insted ov his big feet; he walks tew the depo tew saive hack-hire and misses the trane, and then kolides with the time-table; he kourts a gal till she has tew marry sumboddy else tew keep from spileing, and then he don’t believe thare is a vartuous woman living. If he enjoys ennything he dus it under protess, and if ennyboddy else enjoys ennything he knows tha lie about it. He is like a seckund rate bull tarrier, alwus a fiteing, and alwus gitting licked. These kind ov critters never are reddy tew die, bekause tha haint never begun tew live. I never maik their ackquaintanse enny more than i dew sumboddy’s small pox, bekause i am a looking after bright things and haint got enny to lose. Thare aint enny remedee for this dissease but hunger, and that aint parmanent unless it results in starvashun. Good Lord, deliver us from the falt-finder! if yu undertake tew argy with them yu onla flatter them, and if yu jine in with them yu onla maik them mad with them selfs. I had rather be a target for awl the bad luk in this wurld than tew go thru life shuteing a pizen arrow at awl the good luk. The more i think ov it, the more i keep thinking that falt-finding iz verry much like bobing for eels with a raw potater; a fust rate wa tew git out ov consait ov awl kinds ov fishing, and a fust rate wa not tew ketch enny eels. Thare are many singular beins in this world, but i fancy the singularest are the spinsters. [Illustration]