When it knoks a man down it holds him thare. It iz either the principal or the sekond in most all the iniquity that iz travelling around. It makes brutes of men, demons of wimmin and vagrants of children. It haz drawn more tears, broken more hearts and blited more hopes than all the other agencys of the devil put together. “_Horn Comb._”--This simple little unsophistikated instrument haz beheaded countless legions ov innocent children. I don’t mean that it haz cut oph their heads, but that it haz cut its way thru the hirsute embossing that adorns their skalps. It haz two rows of sharp teeth, and always haz a good appetite. It iz always az ready for a job az a village lawyer, and iz az thorough az a sarch warrent. It iz an emblem of faith and neatness. When it gits old and looses its teeth it should be cherished, hung up and labeled, “Well done old mouser.” I always look upon an old and worn out horn tooth comb with a species ov venerashun, bordering on melankolly. It reminds me ov mi boyhood, and the boyish things that waz running through mi head in thoze days ov simplicity and innocence. Thare iz a grate menny other kinds ov horns, but I haint got the time to tell yu all about them now. Thare iz the “Powder Horn,” the “Horn ov the Bull Head,” and the “Horn ov Plenty;” and there iz also “Horn Tooke,” a celebrated writer ov hiz day; but good-by for the present. KISSING. I hav written essays on kissing before this one, and they didn’t satisfy me, nor dew I think this one will, for the more a man undertakes tew tell about a kiss, the more he will reduce his ignorance tew a science. Yu kant analize a kiss enny more than yu kan the breath ov a flower. Yu kant tell what makes a kiss taste so good enny more than yu kan a peach. Enny man who kan set down, whare it is cool, and tell how a kiss tastes, haint got enny more real flavor tew his mouth than a knot hole haz. Such a phellow wouldn’t hesitate tew deskribe Paridise as a fust rate place for gardin sass. The only way tew diskribe a kiss is tew take one, and then set down, awl alone, out ov the draft, and smack yure lips. If yu kant satisfy yureself how a kiss tastes without taking another one, how on arth kan you define it tew the next man. I hav heard writers talk about the egstatick bliss thare waz in a kiss, and they really seemed tew think they knew all about it, but these are the same kind ov folks who perspire and kry when they read poetry, and they fall to writing sum ov their own, and think they hav found out how. I want it understood that I am talking about pure emotional kissing, that is born in the heart, and flies tew the lips, like a humming bird tew her roost. I am not talking about your lazy, milk and molasses kissing, that daubs the face ov enny body, nor yure savage bite, that goes around, like a roaring lion, in search ov sumthing to eat.