They are born there with grate precision and purity ov karakter, hav a pedigree az klean az the queen’s, and as free from spots az a nu tin dipper. A rat tarrier who could ketch 97 rats a day, with a rust on his pedigree, ain’t worth only haff az mutch in market az one with a pure set ov ansestors, who couldn’t ketch only 43 rats. It iz hard work for a kussed phool tew see this, but it takes edukashun tew see theze things. A man without edukashun kan stand out doors in a klear night and count the moon, and he won’t see enny thing but a grate chunk ov light sumthing bigger than a kartwheel. But you let an edukated man stan out there by his side, and he kan see turnpikes, and toll gates, and torch-lite proceshuns, and wimmin’s rites convenshuns, and municipal rings, and koporashun thieving in it. Edukashun iz bully. The rat tarrier iz not so mutch dog, az a personal matter, az the Nufoundland iz, but he haz more grit to the square inch. Just so the hornet haz got more sting tew them than a shanghi pullet haz, and an angleworm haz more grit in them than an hanakonda haz. Natur bosses these jobs, and natur never underlets a kontract. There is one thing I alwus did like natur for, she don’t take the trouble tew explain. She don’t object tew persons asking questions, and guessing at things, but if enny boddy asks her whi a frog kan jump further at one highst than a tud kan, she tells the phellow (if she tells him ennything) never tew bet on the tud, unless he wants tew looze his munny. I never hav had the happiness yet to own a rat tarrier even, in fakt i hav allus been poor, and haven’t been beforehanded enuff yet tew own a dog. I mean sum time tew hav a rat tarrier, and then I suppoze, to enjoy myself, I shall have tew git sum rats. This iz the way with all the luxurys ov life, one luxury makes another one necessary. Thar iz one thing certain, if i ever do own a Nufoundland, or rat tarrier, they hav got tew be thorobred. I must kno all ov their relashuns, inkluding their mother-in-law, and if thare iz a blot on thur reputashun, as big as a fli spek, the dog wont sute me. I must hav the pedigree all rite, if the dog aint wuth a kuss. THE MONKEY. The monkey iz a human being, a little undersised, kivvered with hair, hitched to a tail, and filled with the devil. Naturalists will tell you, if you ask them, that i am mistaken, that i mean well enuff, and don’t mean tew deceive ennybody, but the monkey iz not a human being, he iz simply a pun on humanity, a kind of malishus joke ov Jupiter’s, a libel, with a long tail tew it, a misterious mixtur ov ludikrous mischief, and stale humor, a kind of pacing hobbyhoss, or connekting gang-plank, between man in his dignity and the beast in his darkness.